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Full text of "Sketches of History, Politics and Manners: Taken in Dublin, and the North of Ireland, in the ..."

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HISTORY, POLITICS AND MANNERS, 



TAKEN IN V . 



DUBLIN, 



AND 



THE NORTH OF IRELAND, 



IN THE AUTUMN OF 1810. 

Tfthn Gram kie . 



JLoDg from a country ever hardly used, ^ 

At random censured, wantonly abused. 

Have Britons drawn their sport with no kind view ; " 

And judged the many, by the rascal few. 

Churchill. 






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LONDON- -'-,;•' .-, .... 
- ***•;•. • 



tVBLISHBD BY C. CRADOCK AND W. JOY 32^ PATBKNOSTX]t« 

ROW. 

#• SiDMir, Printer, Nonhtimberland<itreet, Strand. 



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THE KEW YORK 

PUBLIC LIBRAR? 

7( 5930 

A8T0R, LENOX AND 

TILDEN FOUNDATIONS 

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SKETCHES, 

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CHAP. I. 

Liverpool^ Jugmt 1810. 

£XHAUST£D with sickness I left London, in hope of 
findii^ in distant and rural scenes some relief frpm pain, and 
some alleviation of suffering : whether I shall have my ex- 
pectations realized, or whether a work undertaken under such 
circumstances can afford much amusement to the reader, is, I 
fear, a problematical business. — Books of Travels have miil^ 
tiplied in proportion as the countries where travellers could 
resort to have dimbished ; and have left nothing new either 
to see or to say. In former times, when the desire of change, 
or the love ot amusement, influenced a person to travel, he 
had the whole continent of Europe to resort to ; where, amidst 
die festive scenes of Paris, or th^ romantic scenery of Swit- 
zerland, on the top of yesuvius£*oralniKi8t tW .'f^i^is ^f the 
Capitol, on the Rhone, the Tiber,, joi; ^e Br^taVi^t^es 
endeared to the imagination, not only by.' th^'grfoH 'ideas an- 
nexed to them, but by fond associaliotf wMj^4he (kvli ip which 
diese ideas were first acquired, he iii%b%'&d*aift)ilAify for a 
'^ mind diseased,'' and sick of the world as it is, riot in an 
^s^imaginary. one, the glittering offspring of his own fancy ; but 
^ ^Ihimks to the ambition of the great ones of the earth, who 
^ have keptihe ^|prld in a pretty" constant state of warfare for 
N!^ die last twenty years, and may, perhaps, for twenty years to 
^ come, the British tourist has now a narrower range. Spider 



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-- » 



like he must spin his web out of the materials of the 
British empire only — with bird-eye prospects of Cadiz and 
Lisbon, as long as we are permitted to occupy them. There 
^ is no evil, however, without its good — one advantage attend- 
ii^ this is, diat it brings Englishmen better acquainted with 
their own country ; every nook and comer of which have been so 
often described, that they are now as well known as Hyde- 
Park Comer. Should a sknilar knowledge of Ireland ever 
come to be generally diffused, it would be attended with in- 
finity advanti^s to that ill-fated country ; as many of the 
evils under which it haiqt so long laboured, may be traced to 
the ignorance in vdiich Englishmen have lived of its true chsi-' 
racter; with which, mitil lately, tfaey were as much unac- 
quainted as with Thibet or Japan — most happy should I feel 
mysdf, could my feeble production remove one abuse, cor- 
rect one error, or soften one^prejudice, that keeps asunder two 
nations whose interests are so inseparable, and which, united 
by God and nature, it will never, I trust, be in the power of 
man to put asunder. 

I left London at six o'clock on Monday evening, the £gth 
of July,' in the heavy coach, for Liverpool, from which place 
I knew I could have a speedy conveyance to Dublin. No- 
thing remarkable happened during our journey ; for it would 
be almost as wearisome to die reader, as it was at the time to 
mys6l;^:t{)YeicbuM;;^H thpndts and hardships of an overloaded 
coach' diirmg X jwvni^jof upwards of two hundred miles. — 
My fellow^^^av^i^^ Were mighty C(nnmon-place people, they 
had n^theroSQipse-^to^klsti^ict, beauty to charm, or wit to en- 
liven. Cjfur pfit)Vti^a^«{]ielad^ers were a smart Liverpool milliner, 
a little addicted to Methodism, and, I suspect, more than a 
little addicted to love ; and a Greenock shop-keeper who had 
been in London for the first time, and left it with a firm con- 
viction of its inferiority to the part of the wijdd of which he 
was a native. The streets, he said, were noming to those of. 
Glasgow ; the London porter was not to be compared with 



Bell's beer^ one botde of whi^b (this was the highest panegy^ 
ric be could bestow on it) would make a man drunk at any 
time — some brick-kilns we passed gave him an opportunity of 
remarking that the bricks about Glasgow were of a much bet^ 
ter colour. The vice of London^^ particularly its ill observ- 
ance of Sunday, which they termed the Sabbath, ca^Ued forth 
severe animadversions from him and the fair Methodist. I 
verily believe they considered it another Gomorrah, devoted 
to immediate destruct^ou; and as I endeavoured to soften die 
asperity of their censures, and besides, took a wishful look 
of it from Highgate Hill, J presume they found in me the 
pillar of salt, necessary to complete the picture* Sick 
of their unmeaning conversation X took refuge in sullen 
silence> thou]^ I could not forbear smiling as I surveyed the 
little group around me, and contrasted the present scene with 
the picture which, in early youth,, my roaiantic imagination 
had drawn of a stage coadi ; where the most uncomn(^oo ad« 
ventures were to happen, and vfk^re some forlorn damsel, fly- 
ing for the sake of love, was to be met and comforted by some 
graceful s^nd interesting personage— like myself; but this is but 
the stage coach of a novelist or a poet ;' an English one at 
present (so much are commerce and romance at variance) 
gives, you laughii^, not crying heroines, who care as little for 
r^nement as they do for Epictetus, and sedate male passen- 
gers, (grave and sober men) who talk about the price of stocks, 
and the comforts of a good dinner, and car« a great deal more 
about a leg of lamb, or breast of veal, than either pretty legs 
or panting bosoms, were they even aided by '^ the lightning 
of the eye, the clustering tresses, the white and rounded arms 
of Miss Owenson herself." The company on the outside, as 
is usual on Liverpool coaches, consisted of a number of seamen, 
who drank, sung, and quarrelled during the whole of the jour- 
ney ; I do not wnpose there ever was a more noisy coach, 
since coaches wK first invented. A mill was the temple of 

B 9, 



silence in comparison; one of them, an old Irishman, had 
been in the navy upwards of twenty years, and yas then re- 
turning with a pension of skteen pounds a year to his wife, 
who kept a small shop in Liverpool; he had three guineas, 
and a seven«shilling-piece« which he idiowed with great exul- 
tation, and seemed to consider an inexhaustible mine — 
with the generosity natural to his profession and country, he 
insisted upon treating every one, both in and on the coach : 
and by way of doing the honours of it the better, and setting 
his company a good example, he gotsodruidc, that in crawling 
round the top in pursuit of his brandy bottle, he tumbled off, 
and narrowly escaped being killed; he was very much stunned 
with the fall : the first use he made of his toi^e, was, to 
inquire aft^ the unlucky bottle which had caused his over- 
throw : and, on the Scotchman's teUing bim he should richer 
return thanks to Heaven for his deliverance; he poured forth 
a volley of execrations at his ill luck in retiirning (after so long 
an .absence) to his wife, with a face covered with scars; he 
was hoisted,.(not without some clifficiilty) on the top of the coach ; 
and as he xx>ntinued veiy outrageous at the thoughts of his lost 
beauty, as wallas brandy bottle, the <;oachman thought it 
prudent to secure him with a large chain to the roof, where he 
sat grinning in terrific majesty : when be got sober he was 
released, and I could 4iot help being struck with the coun^ 
he displayed in a very dangerous situation in whidi we were 
placed, by the partial overturning of the coach-^-the company 
inside scrambled out as well as they could, the outnde passen* 
gers jumped off, and he only remained. While the coachman 
was engaged in getting up the fallen horse, he managed the 
reins with admirable coolness, and succeeded in extricating 
the coach from a situation, in which the slightest error would 
have overturned it and himself aloi^ with it. 

We arrived about five o'clock on Wednea||y evening, hamg 
been forty-seven hours on the road; the coach stops at the 



Talbot Inn, in Water Street : a house^ which however well it 
may be adif^ed to the man of business^ is radi^ too noisy for 
a studiocis man> and too slow in its attendance for a hungry 
one. After a &tiguingjoamey> we naturally look forward to 
the comforts of a good dinner ; I had regaled myself with the 
thoughts of it for the last twenty miles — it was lucky I had so 
well feasted in imagination^* as I was doomed to experience 
the reverse in reality: the dinner was bad^ and the wine exe- 
crable, the fish was too little^ and • a mutton chop war too 
much done ; the mustard was sour^ and had I tasted the vine- 
gar, I dare say t should have found it sweet 'y besides all this 
I wa» obliged to wait a couple of hours for it, because the 

. whole house, mistress, servants and all, were engaged in pre- 
paring a dinner for a great gentleman ; I was curious to know 
who this great personage was, who thus caused me to fast 
vnthout any religious merit : he was no less a person than a 
great Birmingham gunsmith, and, as the waiter told me, worth 
upwards of fifty thousand pouiid§— wealth being the only stan- 
dard by which a maa is estimated here ; seeing me, however, 
look rather disconsolate, he admitted, ^th great candour,. I 
had some reason to complain, but requested I would suspend 
my opinion till the next day at four o'clock, when, at the 

^ travellers' ordinary, I should get a dinner (to use his own words) 
fit for a prince, and wine, worthy, no doubt the Birmingham 
gunsmith himself; my opinion, however, was already formedi^ 
I did not choose to sleep in a mill, nor to eat in a caravansera, 
I therefore removed the next day to the Crown, in Red-Cross 
Street, where I now am, and find myself much more comfortable. 
As I am fond of the theatre, I asked the chamberrmaid at 
the Talbot, immediately on my arrival, if Mr. Young was per- 
forming there ? she answered no ; but after hesitating a moment, 
said the drunken man was : I had no difficulty in understanding 
who she meant, aad had this night a very rich, though not a 
spirited feast> in nis performance of Shylock — his excellence 



^ 



6 

in that part, however, is too well known to require any com- 
ment of mine ; I was veg^ mach pleased with the appearance 
of the house, and with the performers in general. The li- 
verpool actors were very respectable, and besides Mr. Cooke 
and Mr. Simmons, there were some female performers from 
London : Miss Bolton was highly interesting in Jessica, and 
sung several ^ngs with great taste and feeling : Mrs. H. 
Johnston pljiyed Portia with great propriety, though I should 
suppose it a part to which she is not much accustomed — her 
manner of speaking those beautiful lines beginning with 






The quality of mercy is not strainM^ » 

li; droppetb as the gentle rain from Heaven 
" Upon the place beneath,'* 

was correct and impressive; though a rigid critic might object 
to its being too artificial and studied. The part in which she 
pleased me the least, was diat in which she laboinred the most, 
I mean in die last scene of the last act, where Portia torments 
Bassanio for having given away her ring : 

*' Let not that Doctor e'er come near my bouse' 

" Since he bath got the jewel that I lov'd^ 

" ril not deny him any thing I have, 

" No, not my body, nor my husband's bedj 

'' Lie not a night from home, watch me likcArgus, 

" If you do not, if I be left alone, 

" ril have the Doctor for my bed-fellow.*' 



Indeed I have remarked, that in the expression of humour, this 
lady almost always fails; a circumstance the more extraor- 
dinary, if it be true, as I have heard reported by those who 
know her, that the character of her own disposition is gaiety ; 
this is a proof, among many others, how little connexion there is 
between the real and artificial character of a performer, and 
should serve to check an opinion, too prevalent (which, for the 



sake ok my friend Cooke^ I trust b uQJuat) that to pourtray 
siiccessfiiUy a villain^ one must be a villain himself. Mr. 
Young, in whose disposition tendeme^ and all the milder vir- 
tues predominate, is most generally admired in parts of energy 
and force : though I have good reasons for believing he con- 
caves his strength is in the pathetic ; but in this instance (no 
uncommon thing virith ^e greatest men) he has mistaken hi^ 
own character ; his Beverley, though a good, is an inferior per- 
formance to many of his others ; his element is the sublime, 
the gloomy and terrific, the gigantic that appab, the sorrow 
that rends, but does not soften tiie heart ; in the struggle of 
cc»tending pasinons, the horror of remorse, the agony of guilty 
and phreasy of despair, this actor stands unrivalled ; nor can 
any age or country, in my opinion^ boast of a superior per- 
formance to his Sir Edward Mortimer, in the Iron Chest ; a 
piece rejected and neglected as a feeble and spiritless com- 
position, till he embodied himself with it, giving light to darkness, 
order to chaos, converting a dry and sterile sketch, into a rich 
and finished picture, and giving'to the lofty, but indistinct con- 
ceptions, the grand but half-formed ideas of the poet, 

'* A local habitation and a name/* 

I sat during the play in the pit, but afterwards went to the 
upper boxes, where I witnessed a scene fully as farcical as any 
that could be performed on the stage. — ^It seems it is essential 
in tiiis theatre, to keep the clean and unclean, the modest and 
immodest parts of the female sex, as mueh apart as possible : 
whether the virtuous are improved by this deviation from the 
London mode, I shall not take on me to determine, but I am 
stu'e the other description are injured by it ; as they displayed 
an immodesty and indelicacy that was disgusting: a parent 
might have brought his children there for the same reason tiiat 
made the Spartans make their Helotes drunk before theirs — 
If, as Mr. Burke (with more attention to good breeding than 



Lv 



8 

morality) remarks, the great stii^ of vice is its ^ossoesff, iiie 
Cyprians of Liverpool are the most envenomed creatiares alive« 
I was accosted by several : vrhetfaer 1 am to attribute it to any 
thing particularly prepossessing in my physiognomy, I shall not 
take on me to determine; but I received several hearty em^ 
braces, while, to my shame be it spoken, I remained perfecdy 
neuter : reversing dins the order of die sexes, or if for a mo- 
ment active, ^li^ling to save myself from the gripe of these 
Lancashire amazons — seeing a crape\ round my hat, diey re- 
commended me to drown sorrow in the arms of a fiur one, 
and one of them having said she supposed I was an Irishman, 
modier would allow me no claim to what among females 
is thought such an honour. — ^The lobby exbibited tumult, 
riot, and drunkenness — sailors, mates, and captains of vesSeb, 
uncoated, unshaved, covered with filth and tar, '' widi all 
tbeir imperfections on their head," walked about drinking 
grog, and smoking tobacco — I could not forbear remarking 
to the friend who accompanied me, the miserable ^tuadon 

of an elegant female like Miss obliged to twist her 

arms and legs, and make faces, for die entertainment of such 
Hottentots, adding, that if I was a young woman, I would 
rather throw myself into one of their own docks — " La tdte 
la premiere." — ^I retired from the fair syren» I had been 
conversing with, vrithout feelii^ any inclination to break the 
vow of chastity I had taken on going amoi^ them, though 
from the shovii^ and pullii^ I experienced, I was very near, 
Joseph like, leavii^ my skirt behind me. 



CHAP. II. 



Liverpool, August. 

1 AM still here, and as the wind continues obstinately in the 
N.W. here I am likely to remain. I learn from the waiter, 
who, aeeing me chained, kindly undertook to comfort me^ 
that he has known instances of this wind blowing for weeks to- 
gether — a comfortable prospect truly. But this is not a soli- 
tary instance of my ill luck — the same evil fortune has followed 
me in almost every journey I ever undertook ; I never went to 
sea, no matter at what season, or however fine the weather 
was before, that a storm did not rise immediately afterwards— 
I hardly ever got on horseback that I did not run the risk of 
having my neck broke, nor did I ever set off on a walking 
party, that the nun did not set off along with me. I remember 
in one of those excursions through Wales, I had three ferries 
to cross ; I was detsuned a day each at two of them, and was 
iiearly drowned in crossing the third. Some people, says the 
proverb, are bom with a silver spoon in their mouth, and others 
with a wooden ladle — I fear I am of the latter description; 
I am sure at least I am none of those who (as I have read in 
some old French play or other) if they were thrown naked into 
the sea, would rise up again with a bag^wig and sword. 

Of all things, I detest a sea-port the most ; and here I am 
like a tortoise turned on its back, unable to move any thing but 
its fins, left in this great bustling place, where every one seems 
busy but myself, with hardly a single acquaintance ; for I cannot 
reckon as such the stupid drones I meet with in the public room 
of my inn, whose whole conversation is the price of sugar and 



\ 



• 10 

rum^ Manchester cottons, and Sheffield hardware^ with occa^ 
sional digressions on the scarcity of corn, and the price of 
black cattle — ^' How'' a good yoke of bullocks at Stamford 
Fair?'' 

After the declaration I have just made, that I have hardly an 
acquaintance in this town, it would be absurd to give an opi- 
nion of it; I shall therefore barely remark, that it appears to 
me a mere sea-port — a respectable Wspping, or Rotherhithe. 
The smell of tar assails one in every quarter — in Castle Street, 
and the squares, as well as in the docks ; and, as we are told 
from high authority, there is ,no touching tar without being 
defiled, it is no wonder we perceive it in the manners of the 
men, and the faces of the women. The streets in general 
are narrow, crooked, and irregular, though there are some goodr 
houses in the town, and still more in the neighbourhood. The 
house of a celebrated medicine-vender, about two miles off, on 
the London road, is particularly distinguished for its neatness 
and elegance— a happy monument of his own craft, and the 
folly of the good people of England, who in this, as in various 
other instances, have proved themselves, " whatever he may 
be" no Solomons.r— I have tried the medicine, and find it plea- 
sant to the taste, and harmless in its effects, which is more 
than can be said for many medicines highly vaunted ; but had 
it been as nauseous as asafoetida, and as deadly as iught-shade, 
there would have been found people enough to have swallowed 
it. — ^The credulity of John Bull is as great as the adventurers 
are numerous who prey on it ; ike is the great Leviathan of 
the ocean, whose blubber gives food to all the smaller fish — his 
is the true ostrich stomach, and, luckily for politicians dnd 
quack-doctors, will digest any thing. 

I am just returned from the theatre — the play was King 
Lear, the part of King Lear by Mr. Cooke, Cordelia by Mrs. 
H. Johnston. Mr. Cooke and Mrs. H. Johnston are the 
great load-stones of attraction at present ; they are coupled 



♦• 



1* 

together in large characters on the play-bills, jnd always ap* 
pear hand in hand lik^ the two kings of Brentford. The last 
evening I witnessed a pleasant, this evening an extraordinary 
performance : when the good old king made his first appear- 
ance, I was at a loss to know what to think of him — it was too 
soon for him to lose his wits from sorrow, I therefore feared 
he had from brandy ; I feared that the natural had been too 
strong for the artificial character^ and that the actor was suiik 
in ihe excesses of the man — I soon perceived, however, that 1 
was mistaken,^ and that he was perfectly sober: I then ima- 
gined, that, despising his amphibious atidience, and not liking 
to *' cast his pearls before swine," he was burlesquing the part; 
nor am I yet recovered from the astonishment I was thrown 
into on this occasion. His performance was not' only faint, flat, 
and spiritless, which might be attributed to illness ; but he 
seemed to have no conception of his author's meaning ; out 
of every hundred men in the* habit of reading Shakespeare, 
ninety-nine I have little doubt would read the part better than 
he played it. — ^The other performers did not do a jot better 
than their venerable chief — they were truly 

'* Ca(ntare pares, et respondere parati.*^ 

Poor'^Tom played the fool to be sure, but it was in under- 
taking a part for which he was so ill qualified — he ran about 
cryii^ ^^ poor Tom's a-cold," until, as the weather was warm, 
be threw himself into a profuse perspiration. I do not know 
whether it proceeded from his, or the ladies' exertions, but I 
was obliged oftener than once, to, put lavender on my handker- 
chief, to sweeten an atmosphere, which assuredly bore little 
resemblance to the " sweet south," 

" When it breathes over a bank of violets/' 
Kegan and Goneril, with their inflamed eyes, daubed 



12 

cheeks, and red noses, might have been mistaken for a couple 
of enn^ed knoladies, quarrelling with an unlucky guest after 
having robbed him of his half-^rown each; while the pious, 
the gende, the soul-subduing Cordelia, with her smart air, 
cocked-up hat, cotton stockings, and short petticoat, looked 
iQ|dre like a country lass, decked out for a village fair, than 
a .Jking's daughter. To mend the matter, they were all im- 
perfect in their parts, and after the prompter was heard first, 
came halting and hesitating the performer, a second or two. af- 
terwards. In short, a more misera]ble performance I believe 
was never witnessed in the bam of a country town— having 
*^ neither the accent of christians, nor the gait (^christian, 
p^an, nor man, they so strutted and bellowed, &at they 
looked as if Bonaparte, or some of his journeymen, had made 
them kings and queens, and not made them well, they imitated 
royalty so abominably/' ' 

I am just now sumnioned, as the wind is becoming favour- 
able ; I cannot quit Liverpool, however, without paying the 
humble tribute of my respect to a man whose virtues and ta- 
lents are an honour^ not to this town only, but to his country 
and to human nature ; every reader I am sure vnll anticipate who 
I mean — the reviver of Italian literature, the mild advocate of 
freedom^ the enemy of slavery, the friend of man — the hu- 
mane and benevolent Roscoe. Bom in an humble station, 
vdth no other inheritance than the sacred fire of genius, he has 
given himself wealthy and rank, and consideration ; he has done 
more — he has given refinement to grossness, knowledge to ig- 
norance, taste and humanity to cumbersome and over-grown 
riches ; he has transfused a portion of his own spirit into the 
heavy matter that surrounded him. Orpheui^like, his soft and 
harmonious soul has softened the ru^ed nature of brates ; and 
a stranger of sensibility may contemplate Liverpool with some 
satisfaction, gracefully as he has throvm the rosy wr^th of his 
own brilliant imagination round the massy pillar of rough and 
barbarous wealth. He has been the promoter of almost 



13 

evety indtitution (and it has many) that this town has to boast 
of— of sbcieties to save, of hospitals to prolong, and of libra- 
ries to gladden and insect life ; nor are his private charities 
less numerous, and would fill a much htfger volume than this — 
$hey are written in the breast of the widow and die orphan, in 
the heart diat melts, in the eye that overflows at his ap«> 
proach — ^* When the ear heard him, then it blessed him ; and 
wh^n the eye saw him, then it gave witness to him. — ^The 
blessing of him that was ready to perish was on him } and he 
caused the widow's heart to sing for joy. He was a father to 
Ae poor ; and the cause which he knew not, he search^ 
out/' 



CHAP. in. 

Dublin, August. 

We sailed about an hour after I went on board, and for 
once Fortune has been propitious to me ; our passage 
was of the most favourable kind, and breezes, soft as the breath 
of love, wafted us gently to the emerald isle. The distance 
fi'om Ldverpool to DubHn, is about forty leagues, which we 
ran, in something more than twentynsix hours. I passed the 
greatest part of the day on deck, and contemplated with all the 
security an mmiffled sea affords, the rough and lofty <u>ast 
along wihich our vessel glided— illuminated as they were by a 
cheering sun, these gigantic and craggy rocks inspired no ter«» 
ror, thou^ it required little stretch of the imagination, to pic- 
ture them blackened with tempest,' and threatening destruction 
to the mariner struggling, " often vainly struggling,'^ to avoid their 
fatal shock. The whole of this coast isdangerous^evento a pro. 



u 



verb ; suid many sea captains have declared, they, felt more 
anxiety in goii^ from Holyhead to Liver{K>ol, than in their 
passage from the West Indies to England* I would recomm^id 
every person who goes to sea for the first .,time^ to keep upon 
deck as much as possible, it is the most effectual method of 
avoidii^ sickness, and, if at length he is obliged tp yield to it, 
the tone and refreshment which the pure and cold air has given 
him, shortens its duration, and weakens its viol^ni^e, It is> I 
think, impossible to enter the cabiaof a packet wUbout feeling 
^nausea and disgust, the air ^ is so confined and suffocating ; 
ihe society in a Liverpool one is generally of the lowest kind,' 
and the fair sex, the delight of man in every other situation, 
ceases to be so in this one. Ovid gives rules for the cure of 
love — he has omitted, or perhaps did not know the most ef- 
fectual of alL But I will draw a veil over this subject ; I have 
no pleasure in dwelling on the dark side of a fair picture, and 
the fairest picture, alas! has its dark side. The writer of 
romance has great advantages over us humble authors of tours 
and voyages — in the calenture of his working brain, he is not, 
like us, confined to sober realities — he dips his pencil in the 
glittering dew-drops of &ncy, and decks, with all ^he colours 
of the rsunbow, poor, naked, shivering human nature — his bead 
13 in kbour, and like Minerva of old, a fuU*grown goddess* 
with no human, failings, and sul^ect to no human waaknessea, 
bursts forth, ready dressed, and armed at all points : he con- 
ducts her, weeping and wailing, with a cambric handkerchief 
to her eyes, through four, sometimes six thick volumes of dis^^ 
tress, '^ through antres vast^ and deserts idle," with no money 
in her pocket, often without a shoe to her foot, or a fhift to 
her back ! But, such are the happy privileges of a poet's 
offspring, she is never a jot the less lovely, or the less attrac* 
tive — she is still an overflowii^ fountain of sweets, a hill of 
perpetual love ; her food is ambrosia, and she transudes frank- 



; » 



m 



]5 

inomte ! Woidd some such had been m our cabio^' for I am 
sure it wanted aweeleniog prodigioiisly* 

Sir George Stauntoo, m his learned Q^ learned and dull are 
frequently synonymottfitemiafO. account of the embassy to Chioa, 
has defied the nature of aea^sickness with great precision^ and 
describes it wilfa so much justice and mimiteness^ that it almost 
made me siek to read if. ^I have here to acknowledge the fa- 
vours I owe this worthy mithor, for the many sound sleeps his 
valuable work procured me last winter^ when I was afflicted 
with a sev^e ifaeumatism, and every other opiate had failed.) 
As I am, however, no writer of folios, I have no pretensions 
to make my readers either side or sle^y ; I shall not, therefore, 
meddle with the history of this nauseous disease,, but say a few 
words of the method of treatment only. — When ft person. is 
comjpelled by sea^^aicknttss to quit the deck, and betake him- 
self to his birth, he should stretch himself as much at length as 
pos^Ue, with his head low, and lirmly pressed to the pillow, 
endeavouring to lose all motion of his own, and to accommo^ 
date himself to (he ship's. Wine or spirits is bad ; though, of 
the two, the latter, dihited with water, is preferable. The 
drink I would recommend, is h%hly-taken bottled porter, soda 
or seltzer water; I have derived great benefit from a tea- 
spoonful of ffitber taken in a glass of the latter ; astd once prer 
vented it altcq^edier by a small opiate plaister, applied to the 
pit of the stomach. 

W^e got into Dublin Bay about four in the moming-~-tbe 
beauty of this bay has been often noticed — some person who 
was a great traveller, or was willing to be thou^t so, remarked 
that it bore a striking likeness to the Bay of Naples, and' huor 
dreds have ^echoed the observsi^n who know no more of Na- 
I^cs than the Streights of Thermopyke-^a brother tourist,! who 
visited this country last summer, is of a different opinicHi, and 
says, dieyareBo m6re to be compared together. than Brentford 
and Badi-*<^I am sorry I cannot decide this important quea- 



I? 



\ 



lis 

tion — ^I never was in die Bay of Naples; and though I have 
just sailed through that of Dublin^ I must candidly confess I 
did not seeit — I ivasin a sound sleep at the tfaoae, but had I been 1 

even broad awake, and on deck, the matter I fear would not 
have been much mended — ^for I must take this opportunity of * 
mentioning, Ifaou^ only a poor author, I have one essential 
qualification of a man of fashion; I am remarkably short 
sighted — not so much so perhaps as the gentleman vrfio ran 
against a ladder in the street, and then took off his hat, saying, 
I heg your pardon, mistaking it for a lady, but too much ao for 
distinguishii^ prospects — ^were I to attempt to describe die 
present one, I fear I should so* confuse eardi, sky, and water, 
that it would be impossible for the reader to tell the hill of 
Howth from the silver cloud that rests on its head, or the blue 
waves diat break on its base : I must therefore pass through 
diis bay as quiedy as our vessel did, nor has he any reason to 
r^ret that I do so ; a description would be unnecessaiy for 
him whoT fias seen it, and die best description would be unin* 
telligible to him who has not : but if he is still unsatisfied, I 
b^ leave to refer him to any of Mrs. Raddiffe's noveb, where 
he will get descriptions of all sizes, ^* ready cut and dried,'' 
bodi for sea and land: adpiirable ones truly, which, vrith slight 
alteration, will do as well for every other place as those for 
which they were written: we went ashore at a small custom* 
house near the pigeon*house, lately erected for the examination 
of passengers' luggage-^I had two or three steps to ascend to 
the pier ; in an instant a couple of stout fellows in ragged great 
coats started forward to asnst me, and helped me up with as 
much caution as if I was bent under the burthen of founscore 
years: diey kindly followed me to the custom-house, wishing 
me healdi and long life uid a happy sight of my fiiends : un- 
like die bidiop in the fable, they did not choose, however, to 
give their blessiii^ for nothing — ^diey hoped I would remember 
poor Pat, and begged a Hn-pmny or two, just to drink my 



^ 



17 

honour's health: the examioatioii of the trunks was a mere 
form; and over in a few minutes — mine was just looked into 
and closed again. I concluded that the gentlemen of the cus- 
tom-house sold their civilitjr.. much dearer than my late sup- 
porters did their blessings, aod had my purse ready to comply 
with the demand \i^hich I expected — I was disappointed^ how- 
ever; there was no fee either asked for or expected: a traveller 
sometimes sees strange sights, and always says he has seen them ; 
I have travelled a good deal myself, but never till this morning 
did I witness the novelty of a disinterested custom-house. — I 
stepped out of it into the long coach, which wa& waiting for 
usy it was completely filled inside and out: it carried thirty 
passengers with all their luggage — there was little danger of 
being run away with even with metjtlesome horses; do ours 
justice they were not of that description: from their steady 
and venerable appearance, they might have drawn the arclw 
bishop of Dublin himself — as may well be conceived, the air 
in the inside was unsufferably close and oppressive ; from the 
paleness of many of the faces around me, it w^ easy to see 
that sickness had not subsided — one g.entlem£ln renmrked that 
he^was always sea-sick in a stage coach ;• I regret I did not 
find out which of the countries he belonged to ; his speech was 
what is termed Iri^, but I think his accent was English — this, 
however, is not a certain criterion to judge by; most travellers 
returning from England, to prove they have been there, and to 
display their superiority over their untravelled countrymeiv 
afiect an English accent and pronunciation. As they are ge<p 
nerally ignorant of the rules> they make ridiculous mistakes ac» 
cordingly; pronouncing, bet and hend, for hat and hand; teeble 
and steeble, for table and stable. — We passed through Rings- 
end, a small village almost in ruins ; though it is only a mile and 
a half from Dublin, we were more than h^lf an hour in get- 
ting to the Mail-Coach Hotel, in Dawson Street, where the 
coach stops. — ^The distance from the pigeon-house is four 



i 



18 

miles: our fare for oor oursdives and luggage \rastiiree shifiiDp 
and four-pence each. l%ie Maii-Coach Hotel| I think is a 
good house ; I am sore it is a dear one : we were charged three 
shillings English (diree shillings and three-pence) each for 
breakfast : it is fair to acknowledge^ however^ that it was a sump- 
tuous one — tea, coffee, eggs, ham, &c. &c. : and I dwe say 
some of the company, whose bowels were empty after their late 
evacuation, took the full value of their money. — ^This was too 
expensive a place for me ; authors have little money, and whal 
they have they earn dearly ; I therefore took private lodgings. 
I called in the course of the monpnig on some people I for- 
mally knew; they received me with all the kindness so congenial 
to the hearts of Irishmen. — I had two invitations to dinner for 
that day, but declined them ; both the gentlemen who gave them 
were married, and Dublin dames, I knew, no more than Lon- 
don ones, like to be taketi unawares: besides, the motion 
of the vessel was stBl in my head, and vrine and whisky 
punch I feared would not make it steadier ; I preferred, there- 
fore, dming in silence and solitude in the Ormond Tavern, 
Capel Street. The last of these expectations was in some 
degree realized, for I had a box to myself, and I should have 
known better than to expect the former — silence is no m<M'e the 
virtue of man in this, than it is of woman in any country ; there 
were about twenty people in the room, all eating, all speaking, 
and, except myself, nobody listening. — I fepeat verbatim 
and literatim, a conversation which a gentleman held with an 
acquaintance in an opposite box : — " Is this Doctor B. there, 
I didn't see you before, because I didn't look that way ; I driok 
-your health sir." ^* I pledge you, sir, in porter: here, waiter, you 
damned wriggled^yed bastard, why dont you bring me mj 
wine, I say." ** Well, and how do you get your health my honey V 
" Troth but middling, playing at cards with you, and a drop 
of the native has done it no good. Bad luck to your own 
soul for the head-ache you gave me yesterday, with laughing 



19 

at your old stories, and drinkbg your new wine.^ — " And how 
did you like tbe play the other night ? (It was Love in aVillage, 
and Mrs. Dickons sung)'^ '* In troth I would have liked it better^ 
only for you : you said you would meet me at the Cock^ and so 
I went away to look for you before the singing began, but the 
devil a cock or hen could I find you at.^ '^ How do like Mrs, 
Dickons ?* ^* How should I tell that, that had only set my 
two looking eyes on her, and went away, just as she wa» 
opening her throat like a lark in a summer's noorning; but I 
can tell you one thing, by J — s, she has damned black-looking 
gums of her own." — In addition to this treat oi cahes-heady I 
faad'a comfortable dinner of ffih and stewed veal f (I must here 
mei^tion, as an inducement to Epicures to visit this country, 
that Dublin has fish in much^eater perfection, perhaps, than 
any other capital in Eur(^ ;) the wine wa^excellent ; I drank 
more than I intended on going in, but the conviviality was so 
general, that I thought it did not -become me to bean excep- 
tion to it. — FooCe was once asked if he had ever been at 
Cork, during tus residence in Ireland i No> he said, but he had 
seen many drawings of it* — I witnessed a good number in the 
c6urse of thi^ evening, and actually finished a bottle myself; 
no bad Ubatipa to the Zephym, who bore me in safety among 
a people who imite so gracefully, 



€( 



The myrtle of Venus, with Bacchus's vine/' 



c% 



n 



r ■ 




/ 



I \ 



V 




m 



CHAP. IV. 

Dublin, 

I WALKED about the streets for some hours this morning,, 
and saw little alteration in them since I was here last ; it wasf 
predicted by some of its violent opposers, that the Union 
would cause grass to grow in the streets of Dublin-— these 
political prophecies have not yet been fulfilled ; I see nothing 
green in the streets, though I do a number of geraniums ini 
the windows, which gives a delightful fragrance to the air, and 
brenthes the perfume of Arabia on the banks of the Liflfy : — 
there is something inexpressibly graceful in the appearance 
of this town to a stranger; he is forcibly struck with the strong 
Hkeness it bears to London, of which it is a beautiful cof^r — 
far more beautiful in miniature, than the gigantic original*-^ 
Kke a watch set in a ring, it charms with its fairy distinctness; 
its light and airy constniction : the streets are wide and com- 
modious^ the houses uniform, lofty and elegant : SackviUe 
Street is a noble avenue, a hundred and twenty feet wide, 
terminated by the rotunda, and public gardens — nor do I 
know any square in London, that equals Merrion Square for 
beauty and uniformity of appearance : the river is open to the 
view, in die whole of its course through the city, and the 
quays, when properly embanked, wiH form a walk superior, 
perhaps, to any thing of the kind in the universe. — ^The lAffy, 
however, is but an inconsiderable stream, and only remarkable 
for having the metropolis seated on its banks — it rises in the 
County Wicklow, and discliarges itself into Dublin Bay, a little 
below the city, and is navigable for vessels of three hundred 



\ 



i 






21 

tons up to the new custom-house at Carlisle Bridge ; this tiridge 
is a very fine one; it consists of three arches, — the centre is forty- 
eight feet wide, and the two extreme arches, seventy feet, sii in- 
ches—the breadth of this bridge is remarkably spacious, being 
sixty feet between the batlustrades ; it is therefore wider by ten 
feet than that of Westminster : — there are several other bVidges, 
none of which have anything to recommend them, except Essex 
Bridge, firstbuiltin 1 676, but taken down in 1 753, and rebuilt in 
an elegant form, after the model of Westminster Bridge. — Dublin 
is a place of great antiquity : Ptolemy, who flourished in the reign 
of Antonius Pius, about the year 140, says it was anciently called 
Aschiled. In 155, Alpinus, whose daughter Auliana was drowned 
in the lifiy, chained the name from Aschiled to Auliana ; it was 
afterwards named Dublana, and Ptolemy calls it Eblana. 
-Dublana, whence comes Dublinum and Dublin, is evidently 
derived from Dub-leana, " the place of the black harbour * 
or Jake,^' or rather " the lakfe of the sea," — the bay of Dub- 
lin being frequently so called. The Irish dall it Dromcholl- 
ccjj^ ^^ the brow of a hazle wood;" — and in 181, Eogan, 
king of Munster^ being on a royal tour, paid a visit to this 
place, which was then called Atha Cliath — Dubb^Line, '^ tlie 
passage of the ford of hurdles over the black pool :" king 
Edgar, in the preface to his charter, dated 964, mentions 
Ireland, with its most noble city (nobilissima civitas) of Dub- 
lin. By the Fingallians, it is called Divelin, and by the 
Welch Dinas-Dulin, or the City of DuUin. — In 448, Alpin 
Mac Eacfaard, king of Dublin, and 'all his subjects^ were 
converted tO; Christianity by St. Patrick. In the year 498, 
the Ostmen or Danes, having entered the Liffy with a fleet 
of sixty sail, made themselves masters of Dublin and the 
adjacent country, and soon after environed the city with 
walls. About 1170, Dermot Mac Murrough, king, of 
Leinster, having quarrelled with this other princes of |he 
kingdom, a confederacy was formed against him, by Rode^ 



/- 



•* 



I 

i 



rick O^Connor, fiiotiarch of Ireland: Demot a)ipfied td 
Henry II. king of England, iirho sent over a number of 'En* 
glish adventurers, by whose assistanee he was reinstate in his 
dominions; and in* the year II7I9 the desceodanttf of the 
Danes still contiquing to hold possession of DuUin, it waa 
besieged, and taken by a powerful party of the EngKsh, 
under Raymond le Gros. Mac Turkill, th^ Danish king^ 
escaped to his shipping ; he ret«lnied, however, soon after, with 
a strong j9eet to recover the city, but was kiUed in th« 
attempt, and in him ended the race of easterUng princes in 
Ireland. — fa 1 J?^, Heifry 11. landed at Waterford, and 
obtained from Richard, earl of Strdngbow (who married the 
daughter of Dermot Mac Murrough, and by agreeineni was 
his successor) a surrender of the city of Dublin. In 1173 
he granted it his first charter, and by divers privileges, efl^- 
eouraged a colony from Bristol to settle there. In 11216 
itiagna charta was granted to the Irish, by Henry III. an entry 
of which was made in the red book of the Exchequer, at 
Dublin. In 1217 the city was granted to the citii4|ll£> 
m fee fnrm at two hundred marks per annum ; and, in 
l£'i79 the above monarch ordained, that thecharter grantik] 
by king John should be kept inviolably. In 1 404 the ii^* 
tutes of Kilkenny and Dublin were confirmed, in a parliament 
held at this city, under the Earl of Ormond. The cb^er of 
the city of Dublin -was renewed, in 1609> by James I. 

Notwithstanding its antiquit)', Dublin has few ancient 
edifices, either public or private; the massy labours of 
our fathers have given place to the lighter ^orks of their 
sons : the houses have almost all the appearance of being bttilt 
within the last century, and even the churches, w4Ui the ex- 
ception of Christ Church and St. Patrick's Cathedral, we 
of modem construction. The castle of Dubliti, nominally 
an ancient, is in reality a Aioderh building ; it was 'ft^tmerly 
moated and fltoked^^idi tow^, but the diteh has beeti lon^ smce 



filled up) siQd the old buildings rased : the chapel and ward- 
robe tower excepted, which still remain. — ^The castle at pre- 
sent consists of two courts, the principal of which is an 
obloqg square, formed by four ranges of buildings : within 
a few years, an edifice, called Bedford Tower, has been 
erected ; it fronts the entrance to the viceroy's apartments, 
and is connected with the building on each side by two fine 
gates ; over that on the right hand, is a statue of Fortitude ; 
and over the left gate, which la the grand portal, is the sta- 
tue of Justice. 

Though Dublin Castle is pre^y, and even magnificent in 
sjome of its parts, it is deficient as a whole; it has no uniformity 
of plan, and as it is so scattered, that the eye can take litde 
of it in at once, it has no dignity of appearance — it bears too 
evident marks of the various repairs it has undergone, and 
like Sir John Cuder's worsted stockings, so often darned 
with black silk, that they changed their original nature, it 
has lost all traces of its venerable origin, in the grotesque 
eoijipllishments of modern art. — Of the various other public 
buildings with which this metropolis is embellished, it is 
not my intention to speak ; they are too generally known to 
make description necessary, and so numerous, that even a 
fiwit one would swell this book to infinitely too large a 
bulk: I cannot, however, forbear saying a few words of 
the College Library, which I saw for the first time to day ; 
and struck me, as I think it must every stranger, with its superb 
and lofty magnificence. — It is built of hewn stone, with an 
elegant Corinthian ^tablature, crowned with a ballustrade 
and ornamented virindowB, and consists of an extensive centre 
and two advanced pavilions. In the western pavilion are 
the librarian's apartments, and the grand stair-case, from 
which} by folding doors, you enter the Library, by much the 
finest room m the three kingdonis appropriated to such a 
purpose : tfa« galleries are adorned with the busts of many 



54 

* 

illustrious writers and literary characters, executed in white 
marble, by the ablest masters ; and on the shelves are to be 
found an admirable collection of die best writers on every 
subject, in number exceeding forty-six thousand volumes, which 
is also daily increasing. At its further end, in the eastern pa- 
vilion, is the manuscript room, fifty-two feet long, twenty- 
six broad, and twenty-two high, wherein are many ndost valuable 
manuscrij)ts, particularly those relative to Irish history ; and 
some of high estimation in the Greek, Arabic, and Persian 
languages : among the former, are the celebrated M ontfortian 
manuscript, and a copy of the four gospels, with a continued 
Greek commentary, written in the ninth century. Under this 
library is a spacious [Hazza of equal extent, out of which a 
gate opens into the Fellows' Garden. This college, as is well 
known, was founded in the reign of Queen ^Elizabeth — it is 
termed in the charter, " the College of the Holy and undivided 
Trinity near Dublin ;" — it \s now almost in the centre of it : 
so much has Dublin increased in size, in little better than 
two centuries. — It is governed by the provost and seizor 
fellows, from whose decisions there is an appeal to the visi- 
tors, which are the chancellor of the University, or his 
vice-chancellor, and the archbishop of Dublin. The num- 
ber of fellowships fixed at present is' twenty-two; seven 
senior, and fifteen junior. The emoluments of a senior fel- 
lowship are supposed at present to exceed seven hundred 
pounds yearly ; the eldest of the juniors, if no objection lies 
against him, is. elected by the provost and seniors, to a. se- 
nior fellowship, within three days after a vacancy is known: 
but to a junior fellowship, admission is obtained only by 
sustaining publidy one of the severest trials of the human 
faculties, of whidi we have any modem experience, or even 
knowledge from history.-^The candidates are examined in 
Logic and Metaphysics, in all branches of the Mathema- 
tics, in Natural Philosophy and Ethics, in Histoiy, Chro- 



I 



£5 

oology, fhe Greek, Latin, and Hebrew languages. — The 
examination is in Latin, and the days appointed for it, are 
the four days immediately preceding Trinity Sunday : — none 
font young men of the brightest parts ever think of standing 
for a fellowship'; they generally read from fourteen to 
eighteen hours a day, for a period of five, often of seven years, 
before venturing to undergo an examination : such intense 
application, as may well be conceived, has ruined the con*' 
stitution of hundreds — many have become blind, many have 
losi their lives and reason, from the fatal effects of such con* 
tinned mental exertion ; nor is th^e perhaps a solitary instance 
of a fellow, whose health has not been injured, and talents 
impaired by it. — ^The brain, ^;lik6 every other organ, after 
violent motion, requires long cest; after a great degree of 
excitement, it sinks into as low a state of collapse : and the 
high wrought fever of youth and hope, which sustains the 
mind through such gigantic and incredible efforts, the moment 
they are crowned with success, subsides into all the Itthargy 
and imbecility of old age. A Dublin fellow, fainting and 
exhausted, from the wilderness of dry and unprofitable study, 
has no longer either talent or inclination for it; Mke a painter 
seated before a difficult and dazzling picture, his eye seeks 
relief from the soft shade of light reading, and agreeable 
society. — It is little to be wondered at, therefore, we have so 
few works from himself, or the learned body to which he 
belongs ; though it is deeply to be lamented, that a course 
of study should still be persisted in, which benumbs genius 
and paralyses effort; which makes knowledge useless, and 
learning contemptible ; which puts the burden of Atlas on 
the gristly shoulders of youth, and plunges the present genera- 
tion into the • miry gulph of scholastic divinity, wl^ich has 
swallowed up so many preceding ones. . The present pro- 
vost. Doctor Hall, has the character of a learned and piou» 
man : the chancellor is the -Cuke of Cumberland, who, for 
aught I knoW; may be a learned and pious man also. 



\ 



cd 



CHAP. V. 

Dublin, 

I. DINED widi the gentleman who had accompanied me 
to the castle and coU^e ; he was a practitioner of medicine 
in town, and a fellow-student of my own' at Edinbui^h — 
diere yrere two other gentlemen, medical men likewise : we 
had a most excellent dinner ; I question whether the provost, 
^,dr even the chancellor himself, (with all due respect I speak 
it) had a better : — the fish was delicious; though not a Roman 
CadioUc, I actually kept Lent, in this instance I fear with no 
religious merit.— Our conversation was mostly medical; it 
is as impossible for four men of the same profession to meet 
without talking of it, as for four ladies to get together with- 
out a little ieandal. The bottle circulated freely among us, 
but there was no constraint; every one was at Uberly to 
drink as much or as little as he pleased, and, as is com- 
monly the case when the liquor is good, every one pleased to 
drink a great deal: — Dublin physicians do not forget that 
diey are men> and Irishmen — they converse, laugh, and drink, 
and have thrown aside the grave airs and formal maqners, 
vnth the large w^ and gold-headed canes of their prede- 
cessors: they have a candour and openness of address, an 
ease and dignity of deportment, far superior to their LiondQn 
brethren — the truth is, a physician here is almost at the pin- 
nacle of greatness : there are few residepyt nobility or gentry, 
since the Union, and the professors of lav 9Dd meijicine nuiy 
be said to form the aristocracy of die place. They hfive,r 
therefore, all the advantages of manner, wbi^h a lofty seme 



27 

of superiority, along with much association widi mankind, ne- 
ver fail to produce. A London practitioner is litde better than 
a bon bourgois^ whom people of rar^ call in when they are 
sick, but have no intercourse with when they are well — the 
only exception I am acquainted with, was, the late ^r John 
Hayes, who was a highly amusing companion, and very much 
in company y certainly; but he was ain Irishman, and patronized 
and brought forward by an Irishman, ** Lord Moira:" I 
suspect he was confided in less, as be was associated with 
ibore ; and, though his jokes were always relkhed, bis physic 
was often given to the dogs. — Doctor Johnson has remarked^ 
that a book might be made on the fortunes of physi- 
cians in large towns ; my own experience abundantly proves 
the truth of the observation : some of the stupidest fellows of 
my acquaintance have been highly successful ; while many 
young men of the brightest parts, have been compelled to relin-* 
quish the profession entirely ; — having gradually journeyed iirom 
the first floor to the garret, they were obliged to go higher still, 
and from their airy ^^ Gradus ad Pamassum," to soar to die 
iofiy regions of song : Apollo is the god of poetry as well as 
medicine, and when his votaries fail ia the one, they naturally 
turn to the other ; to speak seriously, I hardly know a more 
pitiable situation than that of some of my young medical friends; 
compared to whom, a shoe-maker or a cobbler, is a happy and 
independent character — without money to defray the necessary 
^[penses of a gendeman, they linger out the best yters of their 
life in penury and sorrow ; in the most galling penury, which 
must display the appearance of riches ; and in sorrow, which 
must wear the face of joy ; living in a state of constant dis- 
simuladon, talking of fees they never received, of patients 
they never had, and though last, not least, forced to watch the 
humours and listen to the nau^ating complaints <^ sdme an- 
tiquated, toothless beldam, who has undertaken to ,recom* 
mend tliem to h&f friends^ and whose party they dorst no more 



desert at cassino or ivhist, than a soldier his colours Id the 
field of battle. 

I have mentioned above, that the gentleman with whom I 
dined was a fellow-student of mine at Edinburgh, about l6 or 
17 years ago — it is a melancholy proof of the uncertainty of 
human life, even in extreme youth, that of twenty-five young 
m^n, I ^as in habits of intimacy witfa,^ he and two others only 
survive — nor was the manner of many of their deaths less me« 
lancboly ; some were drowned, some lost their lives in the yel- 
low fever, others in duels, and another because he could not 
get leave to fight one — ^he was a young high-spirited West In-> 
dian : — a short time after his return to the island, (I foi^et 
which) of which he was a native, he was grossly insulted by a 
gentleman at a dance — he retired, and sent him a message — 
the offender, widi the unanimous approbation of his brother 
(gentlemen shall I call them) refused meeting him, because hii 
father, (who, though a respectable man, was organist to the 
church) w^as no gentleman — the poor young man in a frenzy, 
rushed into the ball-room, and in the presence of these en- 
lightened judges, blew his brains out. Had he turned hb pis- 
tol on any of them, instead of himself, this consequence could 
not have followed — for surely they had no brains to lose. — 
The fate of another was still more distressing, and as it may 
furnish a lesson to presumptuous youth to move in the orbit 
which nature assigned it, I shall mention it here : — his name 
was Colclough — he took afterwards a distinguished part in the 
Irish rebellion, and was executed — he was a young man of 
considerable talents and great gentleness of manners ; but he 
had great vanity, and great ambition also — vanity and ambi- 
tion, more than conviction, have made many young men re- 
publicans. — He who thinks himself qualified to govern, does 
not like to obey, and the youth who, in the glowing visions of 
imi^ination, wields a truncheon, and hearkens to the trumpet^ 
can have little relish for the pestle and mortar's more peaceful 



09 

sound. Among the debating societies of the students, there 
was^one in which general subjects were discussed^ to the exclu- 
sion o^ly of medical ones — Mr. Colclough was a great speaker 
there, and often displayed no mean oratorical powers. I recol- 
lect well one subject of discussion was the assassination of 
Caesar.— ^^^ Was it a justifiable act on the part of Brutus and 
the other conspirators f" — As may be supposed, he took the 
part of the great martyr of freedom ; he made a long and bril- 
liant speech which was greatly admired and rapturously ap^ 
plauded by all who heard it. I have very little doubt that the 
praise he received that night, gave a bias to his future life, and 
that the destiny of Brutus involved his own equally unfortu- 
nate, one. He resolved to quit the profesjsion of medicine, and 
betake himself to the bar, as a field where his abilities would 
have greater roqm. In the interval, however, a small fortune 
was l^ft him, and he married. Shortly afterwards the Irish 
rebellion broke out^the stage was now erected on which so 
many thousands were doomed to perish ; he flattered himself, 
no doubt, with being able to play a distinguished part, and 
was among the foremost who appeared on its reeking boards. 
He had talents, youth, and courage, which, well directed, 
might have given him the rank and consideration he so much 
coveted ; but, abused and misapplied, served only to conduct 
him to the gallows — to excite some sympathy in the hearts of 
others, and probably in his last moments to embitter his own* 
At the age of twenty-six his course was finished. After the rer 
capture of Wexford, he retired with his wife and child to one 
of the Saltee Islands, of which he was landlord, and chose for 
his temporary abode a cave, which he furnished with provi- 
sions, and hoped to remain concealed till the fervour of prose- 
cution should abate— but Mr. Bagenal Harvey, knowing his 
place of retreat, followed him so incautiqusly, as to afford a 
foundation for conjecture and discovery : — they surrendered 
without resistance ; though, from the nature of the place they 



sugbt faafve made for isome tkne a defence. At his triallie d»^ 
phyed a calm intr^idity and digDity, tempered nvith wUiaeag, 
whidi commanded the admirqetion and esteem of the i^>ectators 4 
0t the place of execution be did not evince leas fortitade ; he 
called, it is said, for a glass of wine, and drank his Majesty's 
faealdd; I hope this is not true. About to be launched into 
fiiemity, the most outrageoi» royalist troubles himself litde 
about (kings ; but in a man of his prejudices and opinions, such 
a toast could oidy be dissimulation, and if ever given> must 
have poroceeded from some faint hope, and lingerii^ expecta- 
laxm of mercy* Mr. Coiclougfa was a remarkably handsome 
man, elegantly made, *Aough rath^ heavy in the limbs, as 
Irasbmen generally are-^his face was round and fair, with an 
expression of .great sweetness; he was a Catholic, though, when 
I knew him, ashamed to admowledge it — he thought it degrad* 
iiig as a philosof^er and republican, to wear the shackles of 
so contracted a religion ; yet so difficult are early habits to be 
rooted out, somudi do the tales of the nursery, influence the 
man, that what he denied with his tongue, he venerated in his 
heart ; and he has been often known to steal privately to the 
only Catholic place cf worship OEdinburgh afforded ; he vi^as 
then very youngs however, and bis religious opinions might have 
undergone man^r changes previous to his death-little did I ima- 
gine at diat .period it should be his fate to undergo suqh a one, 
or that it should be mine thus to record it. 

After our party broke up I went to the play — it was the 
Free Ejii^ts, which I was desirous to see ; not, as will readily 
be believed, on its own account ; but as I had seen its first re- 
presentation at Covent Xjlarden, to compare die Dublin and 
London performers. The first act was over when I went in ; 
this was so ^far convenient, that it gave me an oppcnrtunity of 
surveying the house and audience:— as a public building, Crow 
Street has jittle in its external ^or internal appearance to re* 
commejid k tonc^ice; there were some allegorical paintings 



SI 

an the ceiling, of which I did not fully comprehend Ae 
meaning, nor did I think it worth while to inquire-^the au- 
dience was brilliant and numerous : as we are now in the dog- 
days, the atmosph^e was not over and above salubrious ; all 
die foreheads around me glistened with dew — one very large 
gentleman seemed completely in the meking mood, and, as 
he either had no handkerchief^ or could not get at it, '^ ibe 
big round drops,'' 

" Cours*d one another down his rubicund «osc 
" In piteous chase ;" 



I could not help looking on the audience with pity, not unmixed 
with contempt ; nor can I conceive how a number of beings,, 
pretending to be rational, could forego the beauties of a de- 
licious summer's evening, to sit for hours in a heated atmos- 
phere, unfit for respiration and injurious to health, listening 
to a wild farrs^o of absurdity, in comparison of which, Guy, 
Earl of Warwick, or Jack the Giant-Killer are rational pro- 
ductions — but such is the force of fashion: this play was 
approved of by a London manager, and was received as 
the news-papers were pleased t^ tell us, '^ by a brilliant and 
everflowing audience, with the most unbounded applause. — " 
The good people of Dublin, were therefore earnest to see 
and applaud likewise ; and to prove themselves as profound 
critics as their sapient brethren of London. In justice to the 
latter, however, I must observe they displayed in this instance, 
more taste and judgment than the managers did — they listened 
with indifference to the sentimental click-clack of Ravens- 
burgh and Agnes; they hissed the notable wit of ^' there^s a 
Rowland for your Oliver" and the little twaddling butler, and 
were, I am certain, on the point of condenming the piece, 
when the good genius of Mr. Reynolds, in the person of 
Mr. Young, saved him from danmation. — With all the energy 



32 

Dvhich characterizes bis manner, he delivered two or three 
happily conceived, and not ill written speeches ; their effect 
on the audience was like electricity ; they drove away the/ 
gloom and discontent that were ready to burst forth, and sub- 
stituted harmony and good humour in their place; — like Ba-» 
laam'fi ass of old, (I beg pardon for the comparison) the 
critics in the pit opened their mouths to curse, and could 
only pronounce blessings. Of the Dublin performers I shall 
at present say little, it would be illiberal to judge them harshly, 
labouring up hill as they were this night, against love without 
interest, song without music, comedy widiout humour, and 
dialogue without wit. — Mr. Duff, who performed the Prince 
Palatine, appears a decent, though affected player ; the abbot 
of Mr.Wheatly was a respectable, though unequal perfor- 
mance. I was forcibly struck with the appearance of 
Miss Smith, and highly gratified by the manner in which she 
supported her part — she is, indeed, a great and superior actress^ 
and gave Agnes every support abilities ^ould bestow.— -The 
after-piece was the Budget of Blunders, a farce which met 
with much illiberal opposition last winter in London, for no 
other reason, I believe, but the opinions its author was sup- 
posed to entertain on the ripts which a short time before had 
disgraced Covent Garden ;— it was highly and deservedly 
applauded here: Mr. Farron exerted his talents with mmh 
effect, in Dr. Smugface ; I should have seen him I dare saj 
with more pleasure, had I not seen Liston in the same part ; 
but his huniour is of so truly comic and original a nature, that 
every actor of his parts sinks ih the comparison — ^in a par- 
ticular sort of dry and quaint humour, in simplicity pretending 
to cunning, in vivacity that affects to be grave, in vaicuity that 
seems to think, in the wisdom of folly, and the folly of wis^ 
dom, this actor stands unrivalled. — ^Their excellencies the Lord 
and Lady lieutenant were present; they came in before the 
commencement of the play, and I understand were received 



33. 

with, tl^ highest applause : 4he duchess is a plain looking 
middle-aged woman. The duke I did not distinctly *see^ 
nor did he^ I fancy, much of what was going on — he seemed 
Mttle taken ^^ with the cunning of the scene )** indeed, from 
^e posture he sat in, I thought he was sleeping; but this isf 
no imputation on his grace's taste ; I know by experience 
the Three Knights is a very powerful narcotic. He bright- 
#ned up, however, at the farce, and laughed so heartily, (in 
wUch the audience, as in duty bound, accompanied him) 
that the author himself, had he been present, would have 
been satisfied, and pronounced him a m6st judicious critic 
find enlightened lord lieutenant. This was a day of meet- 
ing with great people,; Jn the morning, as I was walking with 
a friend in Dame-street, he desired me to look at a man 
who was coming towards us : I looked both at him and after 
bim— *^^Do you see any thing remarkable there ?'' asked he» 
** Very,*' I replied; "he is remarkably ugly, and remarkably mean 
looking/' ^^ He is remarkably clever," said my companion t 
*^ that is Mr, C-— , the celebrated advocate !" Bodily and 
mental beauty, (thoi^h I have known some instances to the 
contrary^r} seldom go together* If Mr. C — ^^s talents are 
as great as his face is ugly, he must be one of the brightei^t 
men in the world : he is little, and darkcomplexioned ; >ut 
as he was dressed in a fiill suit of blade, probably looked 
less than he really is. Notwithstanding his unprq>oSBessing 
appearance, he is said to be a great favorite of the ladies^ 
who find in him, I dare say, moims substantial qualifications 
tiittVpc^ beauty, and select him, like captain Bobadil, upon 
** an ih&tinct" they have got, Mr. C brought an ac- 
tion of oamages some years ago against a gentleman for cri- 
ninal conversation with his wife ; it' is reported he com- 
pelled Ms son to come forward as an evidence, to substan^* 
dat^^s mothcr*8 guilt.^^Let us hope, for the honour of ge« 
nius, that this story is either^not tmcji or greatly exag- 
gerated* B 



A 



u 



A few moments aherwards I Sras lucky enough tb me^ 
with Mr. Grattan^ who, though I had heard once or twii^' 
before in the House of Cilmmons, I might be now said to 
see for the first time. I viewed, with mingled sentiments 
of respect and admiratiqp, the man, whose transcendent 
abilities reflect such lustre on the country which gave him 
birth ; which his talents have ennobled, and his eloquence 
free'd; and who, during a period of thirty years, has proved 
himself the steady and inflexible patriot, faithful to bis 
country, but loyal to his king. During his Ibng political Itfe^ 
Mr. Grattan has often experienced the uncertainty of popu- 
lar fevour — in turn praised dnd abused-— he was pronounced 
the Saviour, and afterwards the betrayer of his country : Us 
picture was put up with shouts and acclamiations in the com'- 
mon-hall of this city, and afterwards taken down with cur- 
ses andexecrations. Regardless of ephemeral and evanesc^it 
popularity, he still held the even tenor of his way; unter- 
rifled by the frowns of government, and unseduced by the 
erroneous judgments of the mob. He acted from the dic-^ 
tates of his own conscience, and found in the approbation 

of his own heart, the best reward of virtuous deeds. 

t 

. ^ All prabe b fordgn bat of trae desert^ 
PlsQrs rofiuid the head but enters not the heart ^ 
One 8e}f-approving hour whole years outweighs 
Of stupid gazer^ and of load buzzas« 
And more true joy exiled Marcellas feels. 
Than Caesar with a senate at his heels. 

As an orator he is ih the fcnremost classt; he is not only the 
iSrst at present in the House bf Commons, but^ perhaps, the 
greatest who ever had a seat there | he is not a frequent speaker 
however-^he is neither a fluent nor eloquent haranguer on 
the common business and details of parlianAeQt>-^on such 
occasions his manner se^ms trifling and insignificant; his 
^tiou ungraceful, and his words studiously sought, land ob^ 



* 

ta^i^ ivitfci^efiliy^-f^^ii^ioii a^-f^tad i}ue$tk^ of 'justice or 
oneraditf, wiikli involves tbe e^isie^Qe an4 security of ff^ 
'vemmenl^ ^e hAppine^svof this present and of s^icceedliaig 
.generations, Ms.miii^ giXH^^s with' the subject; he is wragt 
and eaimil awi^«s it wcNre out. of himself; ;md he seejpofi 
ito his astonifib^ hearers, somatliiiig more thaii hi^pian^-— 
Like Achilles Jiis afffiments scatter death upon his oppo^ 
oeiits ; the. fire of Ijis ek>quej2ce dries vp and witlters oppo- 
' sitiob, like the. lighjltning. of h^yeu*— the power of genera- 
Ikii^, which Jilr/Grattap possesses, is mpst ei(traoi*diaaiy> 
sand is die true criterion of the orator, as well .as the poet, 
^ Who are pf imagination both coippact.*' Every sentence 
is an aphorism on which pa|pes might be written ; a text on 
^\ikk sermons might be preached ; he reviews the past, he 
dives into the future, which he fcHretells with almost{)rophette 
exactness ; imd in'the bold frenzy ^f his (^atory, as he pours 
forth the heavy denunciations pf intending punishment on 
folly and mis-rule, he seems rather ah omcle in the act of 
inspiration, thftn a public spea&er. I remembeir well on the 
speech he made about two yeiars ago on the Catholic ques- 
tion — (a speech which in my ^pinion might have impressed 
conviction even oh Boeotian stupidity,) the whole gallery 
stood up as a spohtaneous and involuntary tribute of admira* 
tion. Mr. Grattan is a thin and delicate-looking little man, 
but his eye is full of genius and fire — he is, I believe, consi- 
derably Upwards of sixty, though his step has all the ligkt- 
ness and ehisticity of youth : he lives at a beautiful place 
about nine or ten miles from Dublin t he is, I learn, an ex- 
celient husband and father, and as distinguished for his pri- 
vate as his public virtues. 

I would strongly recommend, to the pentsal <rf my reader 
his letter to the citizens of Dublin, published in the year 
17^7. It is filmofit as interesting at the present as at that 
period, and to England as to Ireland. 

D 2 / 



Mr. Gmtfan by tlUs eloquent fetter jsul^jected Iiiiniself to 
mach obloquy and some danger-*as a compositioii it was 
severely criticised; and by many pronounced as deficient in 
reasoning as in loyalty. — ^In the glowing language of oratory, 
which stops not to examine, he had said^ ^' anakedman, op* 
pressed by the state, is an armed post;^' this was pronounced 
an absolute bull i and certainly though a strong, it is a sin* 
gular expression ;-^tbis, however, if we are to credit Mr. Bos* 
well, is not the first instance of the same imputation being 
fixed upon him— ^ome person repeated with enthu^iasni, 
before Dr. Jdinson, the following passage Irom one of his 
earliest speeches^- '^ I will persevere in my efforts until there 
b not pne link remaining of the chain of English slavery^ 
to clank on the rags of the meanest peasant in Irdand»'^^- 
« Nay, Sir,'' said th. Johnson, ^« that is a bull ; if there is 
only one link how should it clank V* 



CHAP. VI. 



DtTBlLfir. * 

r 

At iht house where I breakfiisted this morning, I was 
enquiring after curiosities—^' I will shew you one/' isaid the 
gentleman, '' ^nd a very wonderfuLone too«-the very house 
where Ead Strongbow lived, and, for aught I can tell, buil^ 
for houses made of stcme and lime were not very much the 
fashioimwhen he came first amongst us." — ^This was some** 
thing worth looking at, and we set off immediately aft^ 
breakfittt to see it : he took me to the street which contained 
this rare treasure ; we walked several times uj) and down^ 



S7 

hut s«v neither casfle nor palace^ neither shattered cbluina 
nor decayed gateway-^-^-The houses were meftn and old k)ok* 
ing enough ; hut after surveying them all^ with more etJkCt* 
ness than they deserved^ we' could tiface no more resem- 
bbnce tea Gothic edifice^ than a Chinese pagoda. — ^We stop! 
every plu»senger to enqtdre aftdr the house Earl Strongbow 
built; nobody could give us any infcmnation'^aboi^t it ; we 
enquired at several shops ; they, were not a whit better anti* 
quarians than the passengers ;-— we might as well have asked 
after the bouse that Jack built. — ^My firiend, in a passbp^ 
swore he would stay there to doomsday, or he would find it 
out — He might have stayed to doomsday, and been no nearer 
his purpose — there was no such house there, though there 
had been an old one taken down some time before. — ^It ap- 
peared, however, from an inscription on one of the beamSj 
that it was not of earlier date than Queen Elizabeth— so that 
hot even poetic licence could make it the residence of Earl 
Stroni^bow. 

disappointed ia the purpose we came for, we were resolv- 
edi as we could not see the house in which this great war* 
rior had lived, to see at least the one in which he was laid ; 
and went to Christ church accordingly. The monument of 
Earl Strongbow has a lofty and venerable appearance, and 
bears all the marks of great antiquity ; the statue of the Son 
is continued .bnly to the middle, with the bowels open and 
supported by the hands: — He was a youth of seventeen, and, 
as tradition records, so terrified at the first onset of the Irish 
army, that he fled to Dublin in the utmost ccmstemation, 
declaringthat his &ther and all his forces had perished; ^t^ 
when convinced of his mistake, he appeared before the Earl, 
and congratulated him on his victory ; the father rigidly con- 
demned him to death for cowardice, and executed it with 
his own Jiand, by cutting him in two— There is the utmost 
reason to suspect, however, that this narrative has no other 



SB 



\ 



/ 



foundation than tlie fiction of some Irish Bard^ who inveiitai . 
it for a people delighting in the marvj^lous and affectiiig ; * 
and who would readily credit any evil story of amftn, wkahad • 
inflicted so much evil on themselves. 

After having completed our survey^ my friend pine^xmd ■> 
gding to Palmerston fair; I readily consented*-***! hare^ 
more pleasure in contemplating the moving^ picture of mao^ . 
thanthestationaryoneof statues aiid monuments. — Atthefiur : 
where we were going, many, no doullt, in thewords of Indices- * 
peare, would ^^ put an enemy in thieir mouths to steal away 
their brains/* But clowns, even without brains, are b^tertfiao 
heroes without bowels, — As tiie daywas fine, we resdived to 
walk,— to avoid the crowd, we passed through the Bana^ ' 
squares, and from thence into Phcedix Park. The Barracks ^ 
are esteemed the largest and most commodious in Europe— 
Tliey consist of four squaries, situated at the w^t end of tl^ 
town, on the north side of tfie river; three <x fourfi^menlft 
are constantly quartered here. — The Dublin mob have at 
all times been rather unruly, and nxyw more than ever a 
watchful eye is kept over them ; a regiment of drs^^oons la 
always stationed in the neighbourhood, whose formidable 
appearance is a peculiar 6bject of their terror. The nehnes 
of a London mob seem to possess similar sen»t^ity : thou|^ 
armed so strong with zeal for the worthy Baronet and the 
cause of freedom, on a recent occasion, they immediately 
dispersed at the sight of the immense sabres, and ki)^ 
cock'd hats, of the horse guards, — the most vociferous cla- - 
xnourer took to flight, and I know one instance erf aiitfvity in 
a courageous and unwieldy friend of mine, that would reflect 
credit on Capt. Barclay himself: — he was a great admirer of 
Sir Francis, drank his h«ahh, and wore his colours 5 damni^' 
his enemies, and swore let others do as thi^y ehose, but he 
would never fotsake him.-— He was huzzaing wi^tarreat 
i^trengtb of lungs, in Piccadilly, when one <rf the 




39 

fave him a smart Mow wkh the flat side of bis s^bre across ^ 
the shoulders : — ^aU bis zeal^ like Acres's courage, oozed out 
of his fingers ends ; and h^ ran^ without stopping or looking 
behind him, to his lodgings in Holborn : — for some evenings 
al^r, he drank his porter, with a much less ^warlike air than 
formerl]^ ; though now, I understand, he gives liimself great 
credit for the desperate battle he fought with an firmed 
I>mgoon. 

The day was fine, and we had a. delightful walk through 
the park, where there is a charming assemblage of rural 
beftuly— I was glad to be^in it for that and Qthef reasons — I 
wished t0 hear my friend's voice and my own, which, in the 
struts of Dublin, is impossible ; the ^beelrcarr$ follow each 
odi^r in i| ]piag line like a ilock of wild geese^ with a nasty 
kind of tefwg and jingling noise tliat is ipsuSerable ; the 
(teavy sound of a London cart is not half 90 bad, and com- 
mands something like respect ; — ^ Dublin carr is not much 
larger than a wheel-barrow : we endure the barking of a 
mastifi^^ but lose. all patience at the yelping of a cur. — My 
companion is surgeon to a regiment which has been station- 
ed in Ireland for several years; he has been in all parts of it^ 
and speidcs in the most favourable terms of the kindness of ^* 
heart he has met with every where ; obscured as It too often 
is in the lower classes by poverty and ignorance^ and in the 
higher by hubits of dissipation and the want of a good educa- 
tioD.-^In the course of his peregrinations he has been very 
much employed in bis profession ; the country surgeons in 
Ireland b^ing in general no i£sculapius*s — In the unfortu- 
nate duel which took place about three years ago at Wex- 
ford, between Mr.^Colclough and Mr. Allcock, be was en- 
gaged to attend as surgeon by thelatter': he told me the 
whole business exactly as It happened ; and aS ii, contains 
some loii^umstances not uninteresting, and to a certain de- 
gvee illustrates the present state of mannerrin Ireland^ I 



40 

shall mention tKe heads of it :— Mr^ Colclough was a young: 
and amiable man, a relation of the Colclough I mentioned 
in a former chapter; he was in a delicate state of health, and 
strongly attached to a life of rural retirement ; his friends, 
however, overcame the reluctance he felt at becoming a pub- 
lic man, and compelled him, by their importunities, to stand 
candidate for the county of Wexford, at the last general 
election.— As he wa3 of a catholic family, and whatever his 
outward professions might be, supjposed to bein his heart and 
prejudices one himself, he was supported by the catholic 
interest— Mr. AUcock was the protestant member. When 
religious ai^d party spirit was thus added to tm irrita- 
tion of election, the contest, as may be suppos'fed, was violRit, 
and carried on with great bitterness on both sides ; — tUferci 
was an estate of a Mrs. Chimeny, generally resi3eiit^ri Eng- 
land, of which Mr. AUcock was certain, as sh'e had giveii 
directions to her agent to make all her tenants vote for him ; 
they were mostly Catholics, and the influence of party was 
stronger than the fears of a landlord : at the instigation of 
their priests, who were the most active partizans of Mr. 
Colclough, they all gave their voles to him ; this Mr. All- 
cock considered a dishonourable interference of Mr. Col- 
clough, and spoke to him with great asperity about it ;— the 
other denied, with the utmost solemnity,having ever tamper- 
ed with any of his voters. — Mr. Alcock said he considered 
iurn accountable for the conduct of his agents, and becoming 
more outrageous, appointed a meeting m half an hour, to 
decide the quarrel. His committee, however, whenhe reported 
what had, happened, disapproved highly of his ' behavioiir, 
;uid insisted on his sending an apology:— this part of the 
business is involved in darkness, but it would appear that 
he did comply to a certain extent, aiid that Lord Valentia 
was sent witlvjm apology : he was refused all access to Mr. 
Colclough, by the friends who managed his election: his 



/ 



4r 

lordsMp rq>eatBdty nsM, '^ I am' the bearer of an apologj^ 
which I think ought to satii^/'— -The gentleman, who was 
Ifterwards Mr. Coklough'$ second, pulling out his watch, said 
V No^ Mr. AUcock gave Mr.ColcIoughhalf an hour, and we 
will keep him to his time.'* — ^Thcy met exactly at the time 
appointed, in a field near the town — ^the business had now 
become known, and several thousands, of both sexes, and alt 
descriptions, assembled to see it. Doctor P thinks 

there were no less than fourteen or fifteen magistrates pre^i^ 
selit, who ^tood unmoved spectators' of this open violation of 
law.-*^When the ground was measuring, Mr. Colclough's 
friend 4rii$ected to Mr. Allcock's wearing glasses, and re* 
q^Ksted him to take them oiF: this he refused, saying, '^I am 
kiiown to be very short sighted, and even now am not on a 
footing with other men/' — ^It had been previously agreed tliat 
in Ciase of -either party being killed, the other should not 
prosecute J Mr. Colclough's friend, in a loud tone ofvoice^ 
thensaidy'^In that case, S]r,Ibeg of you tounderstand, I con« 
«ider the^preement lately made broken.^' Mr. Allcockbowed 
bis head as if in tdcen of assent, but said nothing.— ^This: 
parties now took their places at twelve paces asunder^ 
Mr. Colelough's second squared him in the attitude he 
should stand in, and potting a pistol in one hand, bade him 
adieu by shaking the other --an eternal adieu— ^for the next 
instant Mr. Allcock fired, and Mr. Colclough fell lUeless ; 
he fell on one side, and then rolled round on the face. 
Doctor P - ran forward ; mth difficulty he got off & 

tight high-crowned hat.; he felt all over the head, thinking, 
from its instantaneous efiect, that the wound was there s 
finding it unhurt, he ran his hand under the. shirt, and got 
hold of the ball under the left breast ; at that moment the 
blood came rushing like a torrent even from the tops - of hie 
boots^ staining the earth on which he lay, '^ making the 
green one red/' — The ball passed right through the body^ 



4$ 

vfmti^ng $€ime\ gS the great blaod-v«isels, probaUj the 
aorta^or theh^art itself | which, in a few seeond^, pouret} 
forth all its erioison eonteiita. An awful sileneeandstttlnesf 
for some moments pervaded the immense mukitude ; diey 
were <»rervheln»ed with die .suddenness of the shocks 
when they recovered' their recollection, there was an almesf 
Universal cry of ai]|$Mi'sh and soiTOw.*-»He had no Icniger eny 
cnemiesy^ and the Bfint of party &ded before .this melancholy 
scene ; the Piotestant now acknowledged his virtues-^rthi^ 
Calhdic bewailed his advocate, patr^i^ and friend ; and 
the poor^ with clamorous sorrow, tlicii' humane and gene* 
rous benefactor— Mr. AUcock wb^ removed fcom the 
ground by his friends ; they feared the rage of the peofrii S 
but there was no reason, sorrow had subdued and soften^ 
their heartii; nor did $weeter incense e\'er embalm 
ideparted worthy than the tears which bedewed the body 
of this virtuous man,, from hearts which, perhaps never 
softened, and from . eyes which never wept before^ He 
was carried to bis own house, and th^ body laid on a nfiarble 
alab in the parlour, which was preparing for a grand, enter-t' 
tainment, to be given on his election, of which he was assur*^ 
ed. By a singular coincidence he was carried there in hi$ 
w'n gig, gracefully, decorated with flowers and. oak Ieave% 
for A far different purpose. 

" Blowers meant to deck his triumph j 
And not to strew his grave/* 

Mr. Allcock was afterwards tried and acquitted ; the 
judge conceived the rashness of the .original provocation 
in a great degree, expiated by the subsequent apology; 
while he commented with the greatest severity on the con- 
duct of Mr. Colclough's seconds whom he cons^idered 
as in reality the murderer •of his friend, by the obstinacy 
with which he resisted all accommodation. Sir Jonah 



49 

^rrington, as counsel lor the pvosecutioii, after alluding 
to. Mr. Allcock's well-known exeelknce m a shot, repro- 
bated in tlie strongest manner his potting on glasses* 
'^ Gentlemen of the jury," said be» '^ he levelled his pistol 
with murd^ous exactness, against the bosom of my unfor- 
tunkte friend^ who, until that fetal hour, had never raised 
hb arm in enmity against man, bird, or beast/' It is 
re|K>rted that Mr* AUock is now in a private mad-house in 
London. 

We passed through Chapelizod, a large handsome village, 
two miles from the Castle of Dublin, on the banks of 
the liiFey, with a barrack, formerly occupied by the artii- 
Icry, but now "by a regiment of Infantry. We now recog- 
nized the wisdom of our choice in taking the park rather than 
the great road : we got here into the very thick of the throngs 
and were surrounded by an immense number of pe<^le, 
mostly of the lower class, proceeding in carts, cars, and 
gingles, on horseback, and oh foot, to the happy spot* 
We were very much annoyed by the dust, and still more 
by the beggars, who were seated on the road side, and exhi- 
bited the most disgusting sores to excite compassion. 
The address of an Irish beggar, is much more poetical and 
animated than that of an English one ; his phraseology* 
is as peculiar as the recitative in which it is delivered: he 
conjures you, for the love and honour of God, to throw some-* 
thing to the poor fitmished sinner, — ^by your fiither and 
mother's soul, to cast an eye of pity on his sufferings ;— 
he is equally liberal in his good wishes, whether you ^ve 
him any thing or not ; ** may you live a hundred years, 
may you pass unhurt through fire and water, may the gates of 
Paradise be ever open to receive you ;** are common modes 
of expression, which he utters wttb a volubility that is 
inconceivable. 



44 

Palmerston is a small village of a mean appearance, 
which^ however^ is amplj compensated by the beauty of the 
surrounding scenetf ; the fair is held in the town, and some 
^unrounding fields. The people on the ground were mostly 
of the lower class ; yet the tents were laid out with a 
neatness, and even elegance, that bespoke the expectation 
of better company : long tables, covered with cloths, of 
the most perfect whiteness, and plates, knives, and forks, 
laid out with all the regularity of a tavern. Beef, ham^ 
and fowls were exposed in a little larder in front ; wine 
and spirits,, in gpodly decanters, were ranged by theiir sid^ 
presenting a very tempting spectacle to the hungry and 
thirsty travieller* . I was not of the former description ; 
I had swallowed too much dust on the road : but I was 
very weary and very thirsty} we therefore sat down and 
called for iome wine and water, which was either excellent 
or we thought it so, which is the same thing : nor wi^ our 
gratifica^on confined to the sense of taste only^ our eyes^ 
wd our ears were equally delighted. We saw pas de deux 
and de trois innumerable 5 not done with the grace of 
Vestris or Angiolini perhfips, but to the full with as much 
qpirit. As the dancing was on^he declivity of thehill^^ 
little accidents sometimes occurred ^ thefisur one stumbled^ 
wd .displayed in her fied] a stout pair of limbs, not easily 
t]red> I guess, in any kind of exercise: — the music in front, 
of our tent was a pair of bag-pipes ; another party wa|^ 
dancing to the sound of a fiddle. — ^I got up and went nearer, 
tp hear it mor^e distinctly — It would have been 'as well 
for me, however, had I remained where I was — ^tliese Pal- . 
Querston figurantes did not ''trip it on the light fantastic 
toe ;" one hi^e fellow laid his great heel, stuck round, with 
hob nails, as heavy as a cart-horse, on my foot, and 
almost crushed it to a mummy. — He danced on, and I 
hopt back to my tent, where I took another glass of wine 



nnd wafer to luH puir, and Hstened to ike drone cS dte 
bag.pipes with the same intention The men and women 
in general were decently dressed; the women ia stuff 
and flowered cotton gowns^ with ribbands and mob caps : 
They almost nniversally wore white thread stockings : when 
a poor Irbh woman wears shoes andstockingS;^ she is always 
dressed; worsted ones^ therefore, are seldom used. — ^Tfae 
men wore coarse coats of a blue or Imtowu colour ; several 
danced in great coats of giey cloth or frize; though the 
weather was unusually warm^ they did not seem inooii«» 
renieneed either by them <x the exercise they were taking«-ii>- 
The lower Irish are spare and thin-«4hey zip generaUy 
dark complexioned, with bkck hair^ and often with thick 
bushy eye-brows ; this gives an expression of countenance 
very different from that of an English peasant.— There is an 
air of vivacity and restlessness, of intelligence and, per* 
haps, of mischief in the former, totally unlike the iat^ 
contented ignorance of the latter — ^though not more bo 
than his harsh slnd disagreeable tones in speaking, to 
the soft and musical ones of a London accent. We staid 
about an hour longer, and then went away — the scene which 
pleased at first by its novelty^ lost all its charms along 
witihi it :-— we were kindly pressed to stay dinner. by the 
good lady of the tent where we were sittlng-^^* We should 
have a hot loin of mutton (she said,) with a cut of salmon, 
and a rice pudding along with it,' in half, an hour : as 
to the wine we had tasted it, and she need say nothing 
about it ; and the whiskey. When we came to try it, would 
equally speak for itself/'— It did sp^ak for itsdf at that 
instant, and in very striking language too— ^a cwple of 
fellows, who were drinking in the tent, quarrelled and came 
to blowS'-*<our. hostess^ was in terrible trepidation for her 
plates and glasses ; a more mischievous place could hardly 
be conceived for two men to fight in<r-she implored them 



4G 

ibribe Icnre of the sweet Jesus to lie quaety.aod Hot to 
destrcy the credit of her tent, which was alwtys under 
.a good character — the supi>licatioas.aiid even, t^rs of th& 
fiur vender of whisky, had no effect in softening, their 
bard hearts. We therefore joined our strength to her 
eloquence, and shoved them into the field, where thegr 
' boxed it very fairly out-*-'^ Didn't I tip it to him neatly in the 
bread' basket }" said the sU<5cessful coinbatajDt^ to a friend 
who was congratulating him on his victory, ^^I could have 
diut up his . peepers an hour before, but wanted to tiy 
what sort of game he was; and, by the Bliissed Viigin, he is 
nothing but dunghill/' — I was anxious to see the kitcheti 
from whence the roast mutton and rice pudding were to issue; 
the landlady, who was full of curtsies and blessings fpc the 
service we had rendered her, shewed us it :-»it was a large 
hole made in the ground, directly behind the tent-^thece 
was a blazing turf fire large enough to roast an ox, covered 
with pots, and several spits before it.— I am assured, hai we 
stayed, we should have got an excellent dinner j but ^ 
there is often in the evening a course of fighting, the 
dessert might not have been so agreeable.^ — ^The custom 
of fighting, however, is not near ^o universal as it 
was — it is now pretty much confined to single com-^ 
bats with the fist, and does not, as^ formerly, in- 
volve the whole field in a general battle with 
Shillalahs, made of their native oak; which, iii an 
Irishman's hand, is not a very gentle weapon, and h^ no 
pretensions to one property of a joke — namely, breaking no 
bones. I am told in proportion as the influence of Mars 
has diminished, Venus has become the favourite divinity ; 
an Irishman's love, like his appetite, is satisfied with plain 
food, and does not stand in need of piquante-sauce to 
make it relishing — he is as careless about place as 
about persou; he requires no couch of state, or costly 



J 



brf of down % tlie sky Is his canopy— the verdant ineaJ> 
ff d^sied bank, the scene of his joys \ where^ in the sweet 
delirium oH love, he forges bis labours and his cares — his 
•orrows and his wants— by fi happy dispensation of nature.— 
^ The cordial drop which makes the bitter cup of life 
go down," is found* in most exquisite concentration, in 
the cup of him who stands the most in need .of it. 

Returning home we looked into the hospital-fieldd bury- 
ing gTound-^this is the burial place of the lower class : of 
flie poor, the artizan, and Ae istranger ,' of the unfortunate 
who ends his days in an hospital, the wretch who perishes 
pn the highway, and the criminal who dies by the exeon 
ttener; theoutcjust who had no friend, the wanderer who hadt 
no hftlHtation, 

•* Who found no spot of all the world his own j" 

Kerc find at length an everlasting abode. We walked over 
their mouldering remains, which a little earth loosely scat- 
tered hardly concealed from our view : in some places it did 
not conceal thei& Whether from the carelessness of interment^ 
or the lavages of animals^ the graves of several were open, and 
the coffins exposed ; through the broken boards of which 
we saw their decaying bodies in every progressive state of 
putrefaction; in some the knees were falling from their 
sockets, and the eyes melting in their eye-balls, th^ worms 
crept along their fingers, and the body and face was 
one great mass of corruption : in others an unshapen heap 
of bones and ashes only remained. We turned in horror 
.from a spectacle so hideous and revolting^ from a sight sO 
dreadful and disgusting, so mortifying and shocking to mor- 
tality; nor can I conceive how such a violation of decency 
and humanity could be permitted. I did not even stop to 
look at the tomb of Brian Barome, monarch of all Ireland, 
who was killed by the Danes at the battle *of Clontarf, and 
is said to be buried here. I fled with precipitation from this 



48 

Golgot&ay where the air is tontamlaated with the ' eiduda- 
tions of deaths nor did I seem to myself to breathe^ freel)^ 
till I was some distance from it. A little further we met the 
lord and lady lieutenant^ with their attendants imd same 
other company; ^ 

Imaginatiod cquld hardly form a greater contrast than this 
gay and gallant party^ to the quiet and silent groiip we just 
had quitted; yet they once were active and aniititfted^ 
though not so splendid as these are; who in a few years^ 
perhaps a few months, will be mute likewise in iheii: tmm* 
Oh ! could the wand of enchantment touch the slii^nbering 
bones, and raise before them these inhabitants of the grave | 
could they gaze on their ileshless- arms; thfsnr putrid lips, 
their hollow cheeks, their eye-less sockets, where the wom 
has now taken its abode; could they behold as in a magic 
glass, the reflection of what all that lives ouist be, how 
would they start afirighted and dismayed ; how would their 
mirth and gaiety vanish, their pomp and consequence. sub- 
side.; how would the frivolous pursuits, the transient plea- 
aures, the restless wishes, and busy cares, of this fleeting 
•cene sink into the insignificance they deserve, 

" The boast of heraldry, the pomp of pow*r. 
And all that beauty, all that wealth e'er gave. 
Await alik^ th' inevitsible hoar ; * ' 
The paths of glotry lead but to the graveti'^ 

Thes^ are melancholy reflections, and Uttle in unison with 
other parts, of* this chapter : I have only to say, I did not 
seek them — they lay in my way, and I stumbled over them. 
The odd coincidence of encountering splendour and equipage 
as I isisued from the mansions of the dead, forced them from 
;ne with impulse irresistible — nor are such reflections with- 
out their use — they teach us to think and to enter into our- 
selves* *^ They are no flatt^ers but feelingly persuade us 



49 

what we are."— They teaqh U3 hom to live^ when they teU 

• '••_•■ . > . . ^ ■ 

us we muk' die. 



CHAP. VII. 



Dublin. 

The Lord Lieutenant of Ireland is one of the greatest 
officers under the crown. He is the only viceroy in 
the king's dominions, and has the privilege of conferring 
knighthood and other lesser vice-regal ones. He is always 
now an English nohleman of high rank : there are no in- 
stances of a Scotchman being appointed, and I believe but 
one or two of an Irishman. Yet the exalted virtues, and in- 
corruptible integrity of one of these, might have warranted 
a repetition of the experiment. Every person acquainted 
with Irish history, will know I allude to the great Marquis of 
Ormond, as he was generally called : with inflexible fidelity he 
supported, for several years, thfe falling fortunes of his unhappy 
master: after his execution he shared in like manner the 
' misfortunes of his son, and lived abroad in poverty and 
exile along with him. He was so much at times straitened 
ih his circumstances, that it is reported on having occasion tor 
send his peruke to the peruke^maker, he was obliged to bor- 
row, and appear in public, with a large and unseemly one, 
until his own was repaired. On the restoration of King 
Charles, he was created a Duke, and sent over Lord Lieute- 
nant of this kingdom ) where he was as much distinguished 
for the uprightness of his conduct as the splendour of his 
gcfvemment. He was doomed, however, to share the fate of 



50 

all the fiiitMuI snd virtuous senrants of the royal libertine.-— 

In turn, in favour and disgrace, flattered and neglected, he 

never lost the equanimity of his temper. Discoursing once 

of theingratitudeof kingCharles, he jocularly added, ^^Well, 

nothing of this shall yet break my heart — for, however it 

may fare with me at court, I am resolved to be well in 

the chronicle,'* A gentleman who had'solicited some favour 

» 

of tlie king, implored the duke's assistance, — ^' All my de- 
pendence," said he, **is on God and your Grace." — "Then I 
fear your case is desperate;" said theother, laughing, "Iknow 
no two who have less interest at court at present." He 
outlived his son, the gallant Earl of Ossery, who was killed in 
the engagement with the Dutch fleet in the 46th year of his 
age: '^I would not exchange my deadson," exclaimed the duke, 
with exultation, ^' for ever a living son in Christendom." Not- 
withstanding the tempered mildness of his latter years, he 
was in early life remarkable for the impetuosity of his dis« 
position. In 1631, Earl Stafibrd, then deputy of Ireland, 
gave an order, that no person should enter either House of 
Parliament with a sword: this order was universally com- 
plied with both by Peers and Commoners.—- The Usher of the 
Black Rodattendingat thedoor of the House of LcHds, insist- 
ed on Lord Ormond's compliance likewise — this he positively 
refused, adding, with a threatening air, if he must deliver 
his sword, the usher must receive it in his body* — He was 
summoned before the council to answer for this breach of 
order — he boldly defended himself, saying, he liad received 
the investiture of his earldom, per cincturam gladii, and was 
bound by the royal patent to attend hb duty in parliament^ 
gladio cinctus : lord Staflbrd, awed^by the dignity and spirit 
he evinced, did not think it prudent to carry the matter fur^* 
ther. This unfortunate nobleman was characterized by 
great inflexibility himself, which, carried often to head4on|f . 
obstinacy, was in a great measure the cause of his melaa« 



# 



51 

* 

choly eod." Though in many respects a vala^ble chief go- 
vernor, he was guilty of some acts of harshness and injus- 
tice. Much allowance, however, must be made for the age in 
which he lived, and the existing state of things in Ireland, 
where strong measures only could probably be efficacious. 
The Irish parliament, which was hi9 most servile flatterer in 

* his prosperity, was the first, as flatterers generally are, to 
desert him in his adversity :<-i-it entered strenuously into the 
prosecution against him, and sent several of its members to 
ai$sist the committee of the English House of Commons in 
conducting it. Lord Stafford's defence was a very able one ; 
the concluding part of it was highly pathetic, and would be 
pronounced eloquent even at the present day. *« But, my 
Lords, I bate troubled you too long — longer than I should have 
done, but for the sake of these dear pledges, which a saint 
in heaven has left me. — ** Upon this he paused— dropped a 
tear — looked upon his children — anil proceeded : *' What 
I forfeit for myself is a trifle — ^that my indiscretions should 
reach my posterity, wounds me to the heart — Pardon my 
infirmity— Something I should have added, but I am not 
able — andthereforel let it pass.~And now, my lords, for 
mysdf — I have long been taught, that the aflUctions of this 
life are oveipaid by that eternal weight of glory, which 
awaits the intiocent. And so^ my Lords, even so, with the 
utmost tranquillity, I submit myself to your judgment, whe-. 
ther that judgment be life or death i— not my wil^bui 

• thine, O God, be done !" 

The King, whose cause he had supported, and whose 
orders he had obeyed, exhausted and overcome by clamour, 
signed reluctantly the warrant for his execution. — ^The Earl, 
when the fatal and unexpected intelligence was communt- 
cated to him, started from his seat exclaiming, " Pu 
not your trust in princes, or in any of the sons of ni^n, 
for ^they will certainly deceive you .** 

B2 



$1^ 

The king could never forgive binuelf for liis pusilUnimity In 
thus giving up so faithful a s^ervant; — in the hour of bis own 
sorrow he remembered it in bitterness and anguish of heart :— - 
'^ I suffer, ^'saidhe^ ^byan unjust sentence, fo|r having allowedl 
an unjust sentence to take effect on an innocent man. 

The presentLord Lieutenant is rather a tail and dark-com- 
plexioned man, about fifty years of age, or upwards. In early 
life he was well known by the name of Colonel Lennox, and 
the duel he fought with the Duke of York — ^the Puke had ^ 
very narrow escape, as the ball carried away part of his side 
curl. Whatever doubts were entertained of the reasonable* 
Qess of bis conduct, there were none of his courage—- 
he displayed in this instance, as in every other, all the 
courage which is hereditary in the Royal family: — thf 
puke of Richmond is highly popular; his .a&hility, and 
condescension, are the theme of universal praise; he 
throws aside, whenever he can, the cumbersome caparison 
pf office, and rides, walks about, and converses witk 
idl the plainness of a private individual.-— Though aj^Kunted 
by an obnoxious ministry, the Catholics, in their dislike to 
it, mingle nothing offensive against him ; — ^in this they 
$hew their good sense — a lord lieutenant of Ireland haa 
now no more to do with the measures of govemmeiit, 
than the postman with |he incendiary lejtter he is tUe bearec 
gf ; — he is a mere chair of state, and has little nu>re real^ 
power than a village magistrate, or parish constable : all he 
has to do is to fall in with the texoperof the people, and 
keep them in good humour if he can. — -The Duke possessei 
the indispensable qualification in a very eminent dcfgree^ 
and is, by a bottle at the least, the best lord lieutenant that 
has been in this country for half a century: — he has takea 
several excursions to the country parts of the tiogdooit 
where he is as famous for his conviviality as his high rank;— 
he is what is called a fivp-bottle maui and nStex s«pp«r 



Si 

# 

Ainlc^ grog and smoked tobacico lika a West India planter.— 
Many stories are told of him^ the truth or falsehood of 
which I have no means of ascertaining. I select one without 
vouching for its authenticity : — he was spending a few days at 
a gentleman's hduse iii the south of Ireland j— there was 
a good deal of other company^ all^great topers, and invited 
for that reason ; — ^they were milksops, however, compared 
to his excellency,, who, having soon laid them under the 
table, was reduced to the unpleasant alternative of either 
drinking by himself, or not drinking at alh — In this melan- 
choly predicament, his host dispatched a messenger for a 
young curate- of good family, in high estimation for the 
strength of his head, who lived a few miles distant ; — ^he 
begged of him, for the love of the Lord, the credit of 
the county, and the honour of his country, to come 
to him immediately, and strive to keep cor|ipany with 
his ekceilency.-^The clerical Bacchus did n^t refuse so 
agreeable a summons, and next day was s^ted at table 
opposite the vice-regAl one r — after the rest of the party 
were dispersed or fallen, the two champions were left 
salone.—- " This is poor pitiful work^ your grace," said the 
Curate j ** the wine is getting cold on my stomach j what 
do you think of a bumper of brandy ?" — His grace had 
ilo objecticm to so spirited a proposition, and two large 
glasses were instantly swallowed — two others were as 

instantly filled up ; Mr. — dr£ink a part of his, but 

could proceed no further; hii^ jaw became fixed, and^he 
rolled motionless cm the fbor : — the Duke coolly finished 
his own glass, and, smiling on his prostrate antagonist, 
walked steadily to his chamber.— ^Next day he drank his 
- health by the title of Dean— ^-had he overcome the Duke, I 
Mf^^e he \)i^ould have been a Bishop. This method of 
drinking himself into the hearts of the Irish, is, however, not' 
original with his grace : the Duke of Rutland silenced 






54 

opposition in a similar manner ; but unfortunately did:lpdt> 
live to cinjoy the fruits of his labour; he fell a martyr 
to his exertions for his country, and died of a fever, brought 
on by carousing and hard drinking: — in his cups he had 
a gGpd-natured propensity to making knights. As respec- 
table men generally declined his favours, they were- 
lavished on people of a different description, and many 
of hi$ knights still sell soap and tobacco, noggins of whisky,, 
and farthing candles, in different parts of the kingdom. 
Tliese poor knights have long been a subject of merriment 
in Ireland — ridiculed and jeered at by the men^ and not. 
much thought of by the women. 



" Things that love night," 

'* Love not such Knights as these.* 



The Duke of Rutland possessed all the munificence of 
his noble sire ; and, with all his faults, was the phoenix of 
modern Lord Lieutenants* I have looked into the. history, 
of several, but find nothing worth recording — the most of 
them were grave and formal courtiers, who wore bag-wigs 
and swords, turned out their toes^ danced minuets, and 
laughed as seldom as they.thought. — Wit does not seem ia*. 
digenous in the castle of Dublin, more than in the palace 
of St. James's.— I suspect there is something in the air of 
courts unfriendly to it ; as the air of this country is said to 
be to venomous animals, and that wit can no more thrive in, 
the one, than serpents in the other. There is no rale with- 
out an exception, however ; and I just now recollect a very 
particular one. The Earl of Chesterfield was a scholar, 
and a man of wit, as well as an elegant courtier ; — his go- 
vernment oi this country proves him not only a man of aix. 
enlightened understanding, but of the most benevolent dis- 
positions ^—»«-he came over in the ye^ 1745, a period remark*. 



S5 

m 

BiAe for the rebellion which raged in Scotland^ and made it 
necessary to have an able and prudent Statesman at the 
head of afiairs in Ireland. By the wisdom and lenity of his 
measures, the Catholics remained perfectly quiet; before 
his arrival, those in power had shut up their chapels in 
Dublin, and their priests were commanded to leave the king* 
dom by proclamation. These severities were ofiensive to 
lord Chesterfield ; convinced that harsh treatment alienates 
the heart, but that gentle usage inspires confidence, and 
gains the afiections,-he permitted them the undisturbed ex** 
ercise of their religion ; to accusations to their prejudice^ 
resulting from dislike, he paid no regard — rumours of plots 
and insurrections were listened to by him with calm indif- 
ference. — One morning prior to the battle of CuUoden, Mr« 
Gardiner, the vice treasurer, abruptry entered his bed cham« 
ber with tidings that the papists were rising — '^ Rising.'' said 
his lordship, looking on his watch, ^Mt is time for every honest 
man to rise; it is past nine o'clock, and I will rise myself. 
Lord Chesterfield, the day he embarked for England, was 
followed to the shore. by the prayers and good wishes of a 
crowd of attending spectators ; — and to perpetuate his virtues 
and the gratitude of the nation, his bust was placed in the 
Castle of Dublin, at the public esqpense. , Lord Carteret, 
who governed Ireland for several years, was likewise a man 
0f knowledge and a schdlar ; — in 1729 he issued a proclama- 
tion for apprehending the author of Draper's letters— Swift 
afterwards expostulated with his excellency on the propriety 
^ this proclamation ; when lord Carteret, with classic ele- 
gance, thus replied—'^ Res dura, et regni novitas, me taliai 
cogunt moliri." 

Swift, prior to this interview, wrote on a pane of tlie win- 
dow of the audience chamber in the Castle^ . 

My very good Lord, tis a very hard task. 

That I ihoold wait here who have nothing to ask. 



y 



\ 



S6 

The Lord Lieutenant wrote iknderneatli. 

My very good dean, there is none who corae here 
But have something to ask^ or something io Jear, 

Swift at that time was violently in opposition ; under the 
simile of the legion club, he thus describes the first session 
of the Irish parliament, held in the late parliament-house^ 
College Green; 

Not a stone's throw from the College^ 
Half the globe, from sense and knowledge^ 
Near the Church*i-you know the rest 3 
Making good my grandame*s jest. 
Oat they flew ^th horrid squall. 
Beloved by few, accurs*d by all. 

We never know tbfe value of any thing, however, till w^ 
have lost it; the people of Dublin, who thoug|it very litlfe 
pf their parliament when they had it, are now extrelneljr 
<plunor0us to have it back again : it only loaded their shoal«- 
ders, bat the United parliament, they swear^ breaks thrar 
backs with the weight of its burdens^^-^whether with or 
without reason; they are at present in a state of great fier^ 
mentation ;-r^ihe storm which lately raised the billows of tlie 
•Thames, did not much exceed that which now agitates the 
Liifey. It is not here, however, on account of a speodatrve 
question but one of paramount consideratioQ^--tbfl heavy 
taxes laid on at the close of the last session of pjurMainient*'**- 
they are principally additional duties on wine, and a conaif* 
derable augmentation of the hearth and window tax— -^tt 
they have retrospective, power, they are reprobated not only 
as oppressive but unjuitt, tk)t only as taxation but rdbbery :-«mp 
several persons have refused paying them, and vestries are 
summoned in majiy parishes, to arrange the most efi^ctual 



5? 



,»•* rf 



iiieans 6t 6pposmg ikhit operatioa. This is a very unel|ttal 
struggle^ and it iis not necessary to be a prophet to foretel 
the event*— the government will conquer^ and the vestriea 
will yield ; the inhabitants of Dublin may give their cholet 
vent in words, but they muit end where they ought to have 
begun— *by opening their purses. — Mr. Foster, ChanOellof 
of the Exchequer for Ireland, is cotisidered the author of 
these obnoxious regulations — he is the universal subject of 

conversation and-— benediction—— ^ ^^ The blesi^ings 

of the evil one, which are curses, are upon him.^' He 

i« placarded and caricatured in print shops ; and the fancy 
of Dublin displays itself in as many grotesque delineations 
h$ that of London on similar occasions. I meet with him 
^ I walk along on old walls and gateways ; sometimes hang« 
ing, and sometimes roasting ; and lest it should be supposed 
it was temporal suffering only, some kind-hearted comment 
tator on this ikming te^t, writes underneath, in large cha- 
racters, D- — — n to Fosterfijrever.—- Popular commotion irt 
Kke the hysterics; one perscm is affiscted,^ and thdusandi 
tabe it l]y imitation.— 'The Common council of Dublin has 
not escaped this wide<^preading contagion: — at a turbulent 
meetihg which took place a few days ago, his picture,' which 
had been put up in the hall for his. opposition to &e Unio% 
^vas ordered to be taken down^-^-a member who did not 
thiiik this mar^ of contumely sufficient, pr<^osed it should 
receive a kick from each person in its journey to the lumber 
xxKHii-^-'^anotlier greater genius said, it should be kicked by 
every man in the nation. This playing at fbot-^ball with 
pictures, is a harmless way q£ displaying resentment, and 
dmugh not so well at present, is no bad amusement for odd 
weather; it would shew die world likewise,, that the taut* 
wtgm council ef Dublin does not want fot tmdersUmdih^. 

Dublin, however, must be allowed to be at present in a dis-^ 
tMssedsitiMtion; several thouiand manufacturas are OQt of 



emplo3nneiit ; and bankruptcies are so numerousi that ere- 
dit is almost at a stand. — Some of these evils, doubtless, are 
occasioned by the union. — The talent and integrity of the 
Irish parliament, can hardly, I believe, be under-rated ; but 
frugality was not among its faults | — it was bribed liberally^ 
but it spent freely; — ^its patriotism could never, I fear, much 
benefit the city of Dublin, but its money did. — ^Three hun- 
dred Bacchanals, whose sun daily set in claret — spending six 
months every year \^ith their wives and children in Dublin^ 
must have been of infinite service ; and their loss would for 

a time be severely felt. Something must likewise be 

attributed to the improvident disposition of the Dublin 
merchants, and shop-keepers, who live in great luxury and 
profusion-— who too often adapt their expenditure to their 
highest income, and lay up nothing in a year of plenty, for 
a year of famine ; — hjjt the efiect of both these causes would 
have been transient ; nor would the taxes have been severely 
felt, but for the almost universal stagnation of trade, occa* 
sioned by the present perplexed and complicated state of 
commerce in Europe. — ^The people of Dublin, however, 
whose vanity has been wounded still more than their interest 
injured by the union, persist in attributing to it all their 
misfortunes ; and in private company, as well as at public 
meetings, vent their fury on it, and its infamous authors, as 
they term them. — ^At the common council just mentioned, an 
orator exultingly asked, where was Lord Clare now — ^where 
was Marquis Comwallis — ^where was Mr. Pitt — nobody 
answeredhim, nor did he answer himself; but as he pronoun- 
ced them unworthy of life, and roundly asserted that their 
deaths was God's judgment upon them, for the murder of the 
immaculate Irish parliament, it is to be supposed he meant 
they |iad taken the broad road of destruction, rather than the 
narrow path of life. — Mr. Pitt, though not much a fighter 
himself, was the cause of fighting enough in others^— he had 



/ 



59 

lived in ablaze) andllre^ perhftps, this orator thought, was his 
natural elem^nt.^— A certain Colonel, to commemorate the 
peace of Ryswick, let off some fire-works, which were greatly 
admired. — Being in company a few days afterwards, the con- 
versation turned on the monument just erected in Westmin- 
ster Abbey, to Purcell the celebrated musician : — the colonel 
particularly admired the beauty of the inscription, " He is 
gone to that place where only his own harmony can be ex- 
ceeded." — ** Lord, Colonel," saidalady who was present, ** the 
same thing may be said at your own death of you. — ^He is 
gone to that place where only his own fire^-works can be 
exceeded." 

In general, however, the common council of Dublin is on 
the side of government ; it is mostly, or I believe entirely, 
composed of protestants ; — protestant and loyalist are in this 
country synonymous terms. — Independent of the natural 
prejudice which attaches him to England, his own safety and 
supremacy depends, he thinks, on the connexion ; nothing, 
therefore, but some grand question which at once wounds his 
prejudices, and attacks his interest, rouses him to opposition^ 
nor does it ever last long. 

" He carries anger as the flint bears fire j 
Which > much enforced^ shews a hasty spark. 
And straight is cold again.'* 

There are few good speakers in the common council of 
Dublin — it is the collusion of opinions only which emits 
eloquence^ and there can belittle argument where almost all 
are of one mind : — several of the members, however, express 
themselves with fluency ; and one of them with more vehe- 
mence and force than is usual among English orators — his 
name is Gifibrd, well known in this city by his high protes- 
tant ascendency principles, and violent and indecorous 
invectives against the Catholics:— his conduct has been stig- 



«0 " 

mati^ed as the c^Dtis^quencc of sordid cotl^idftratiohs only ; 
he is called a tool of govemmejDt, or, in loeal phrase — a 
castle hack. — Mr. Grattan^ in his strong atid sarcastic lan-^ 
gttage, thus characterized him : — In the city a fire brand, in 
the court a bully, in the field a coward ; and who is only in^ 
dured by the party to, which he belongs, because he does 
those vile acts which the less vile refuse to execute. — But 
we must allow for exaggeration in an orator as well as in a 
poet. — Mr. Gifibrd^ I am told, is an amiable man in private 
life ; probably not blind to his own interest ; a regard to that 
Inay influence his public conduct as it does most other men's 
—but though interest does something, principle, perhaps 
{Hrejudice, does more. — A thousand a year may make him 
4peak more violently against the catholics ; but ten thousand 
ft year probably would not bribe him to desert the protestaht 
<?ause. Government cither is, or afiects to be^ alarmed 

iit the irritation of the public mind— ^^some movements hav6. 
been observed among the military^ and private orders, it is 
said, have been given to the yeomanry to hold themselves in 
readiness---gossipping people, from the love of the marvel- 
lous, recount nightful tales of nocturnal meetings and large 
assemblies of men, that have no existence but in th^ir own 
imaginations — timorous ones frighten themselves and 
endeavour to frighten others, with ridiculous accounts of 
placards that are every night tlirown into the castle yard, 
inscribed. Catholic emancipation— repeal of the union— -or 
rebellion — and hold these boyish tricks decisive evidence ot 
an approaching insurrection; as if when men are knaves 
enough to rebel, they would be fools endugh to tell the 
world of it before hand. — These poor hen-hearted creatures 
who go about croaking about plots, and pikes, and iht 
thurch, and papists, like £ast«cheap fishmongers after thd 
tity was burnt, are not all old women as one should suppose i 
Some of titem are men of good education, little use as they 



seem Xo have made of it.-— In reality^ there is no ^stBgei^ 
^ther of rebeUion or insurrectiota. — Governn^eot knows it, 
lind evejy rational man who thinks for a moment must know 
it likewii^e : the protestant will not rebel surely ; no fears 
f(f ? ^t^rtained of him j nor will the Catholic — ^the memory 
pf the late rebellion is too recent — his syffi^rings are too 
ftesh; his wounds are toogreen j— he may harangue, he ipay 
threaten, he may revile. L4:ke Hamlet, he noiay sp<^alc 
Aggers, but he will use none.— -^A suppressed rebelUoii 
^as it is proverbially expressed) strengthens govemmenl 
•r— it cuts off the active and ambitious, it frightens th^ 
timoroi? , it sickens the humane, and for a time lajrs thc^ 
people prbstirate at the feet of government.— Reconciled ta, 
lesser evils by the recollection of greater, legal subjection, or 
^ven oppression, is scarcely felt by those who have jivtsfe 
f scaped from the insolence of military dominion ;-?-the fury^ 
of lawless and unbridled will. Independent of all personal 
considerations, the h(MTors of the late rebellioii must operat^: 
on the heart of every humane and thinking Qo^an ; and detef 
him frpmrashly venturing on another. — Was I a sulijept of 
Turkey, I virmld Uve contented under its government rather 
thaQTun the risk of making it better by a r^beUion, of ev^n 
hall it| terrors. — I happened, being th^n a very you.ngnHui,to 
be in thi^ town at the period of it3 breaking out ; and was I 
tOr Uye to patriarchal age, I shall not forget the in^pressioiL it: 
naade on oae; not the glpopiy and sepuliqhral appe9ja^c^ 
DubHn. presented*-*- when aU business %Xkd pleasure w^re 
avspendied, when every man was a tyrant or a sl^aye i ^ reb^l, 
that was suspected, a spy that puap^pted, pr an exe<Hitiqn^ 
that punished; when malice and hatred, terror a^d do^bti 
<^ and distrust, were on every face, and all the tf n^r eh^- 
ties of nature withered and perished before the ppi^oned 
breath of party 3 which made no allo^ane^ for ^rqr, had^o 
recollection of friendship, felt no ]|ratitud« for l^f^^ipi^si^ 



€2 
I 

no sympathy for age, sex, sickness or sorrow — when almost 
every house was a barrack^ every public building a prison, 
and every street a golgotha, or a shambles, on the lamp posts 
of which some wretched fellow creature was daily suspend- 
ed ; who, while his limbs quivered in the agonies of death, 
was the subject of brutal joke andunfeelingexultation. — Itis 
some feint pleasure, however, toremember^ — though there is 
so muchjto lament and reprobate, there is something likewise 
to admire. — Gentleness, mutual forbearance, and compassion, 
were consumed in the hot caldron of discord, so fetally 
working; but magnanimity, unshaken fortitude, and con- 
tempt of death, were still to be found ; in the contemplation 
of which we may strive to lose the recollection of the savage 
Excesses, and mid-night murders, of the rebels ; the vindic- 
tive and unrelenting vengeance, the floggings andtorturings 
of the opposite side ) as the !^man senate, when Terentius 
Varropresented himself before it, after the fatal battle of Can- 
nase, overlooked his pride, his errors, andhisobstihancy, onac- 
doutit of his uAsubdued and inflexible spirit— 'they thanked 
him for the fortitude he had displayed in his misfortunes, for 
the confidence with which he still hoped for suc<jess— 
*^ Quia de Respublica non desperassct** were tiehr remark- 
able words.— -The Irish parliament, in the midst of universal 
jconflagration, continued its sittings undaunted; it is likewise 
to the praise of this assembly, it rejected the proposition 6f 
some of its violent members, to order the prisoners to mili- 
tary tribunals, and instant execution.— *-These unfortunate 
men, however, did not meet death with less certwnty, though 
more slowly on that account : almost universalljrthey met it 
with a courage which was never excelled.— -The two Sheares ' 
were, perhaps, the only exception; and as they were brothers^ 
had an aged mother, and the eldest a wife and several chil- 
dren, a deep sense of their wretched situation was natural and 
excusable — when the jury brought in "the fetal veriict^- 
they burst into tears, and clasped each other in their turms. 



63' 

pTcsentuig a scene of distre3S| which subdued even the 
court itself^ and melted hearts steeled by habit and prejudice 
against them. Mr. O^Byrne met death not only with com- 
posure but cheerfulness — he was confined in the same cell 
with Mr. Oliver Bond— '-a gentleman, unaccustomed to such 
scenes, passed the night previous to his ej^ecution along with 
him — he declares, that on his entrance into the prison, the 
clanking of chains, the brutal and ferociou/s aspect of the 
keepers, the heavy and grating sound of the doors as the 
locks were opened, and the bolts slowly withdrawn ; the 
gloomy and forlorn appearance of every thing aroupd, sa 
disordered his frame, that his teeth chatteredf his knees 
bent under him, and his hair literally stood an end^ — Mr. 
O'Byrne during the ni^t conversed with the utmost gaiety 
and indifference*— he took a hear^ breakfast, and eat a 
couple of eggs — ^when summoned to execution^ be did not 
by the least variation of voice or countenance^ display even 
a transicBt uneasiness : he shotk Mr. Bond afiectionately by 
Ae hand, saying, ^^ God Almighty bless you — you have but a 
day or two longer, and then your sulferings will>be over as 
mine nearly are.'' — It is feported^ so complete was his self<^ 
poss^sbn, that iofiMsing to the scaiibI4t^.the window of 
an apartment where Mrs. Bond was waiting to see her 
husband, he stooped so low as not to be seen by her, lest he 
should alarm her, feelings, at that moment trembling for all 
Ae held dear.^^-Though considerably prior to the pfiipd I 
ani writing of, I shall meption the fate of another of tl^ese 
unfortunate sons of rebellion; pn account of the firmness 
lie dispkyed.*— He was a clergyman of the name of Jackson 
**-he was tried and found guilty, but contrived to escape the 
penalties of the laW, by swallowing a laige dose of arsenic — 
the intrepidify with which he bore the excruciating pains 
of that poison was remarkable.-- ^-A ifnotio^ in arrest of 
jil4gment wa» siado-^H« concealed die pangs he was suf* 



€4 

fering 90 we)]^ ttial when he. was called upon to know wlnt 
he had to say, why sentence should not pass i^n him, 
though at the time actually unable to speak, with a smiling 
air he bowed and pointed to his coonsel : — his fortitude did 
not foil him to the la^t, for it was scarcely suspected that 
he was ill, until he fell down in the agonies of death^ in the 
midst of his counsel's argument. — The following anecdote 
is related of him in a wixek lately published by Dr. Mc 
Nevin — ^while he was preparing for his trial, and was (iilly 
apprised of what would be its result, a friend was, by the kind- 
ness of the gaPdler, penmtted to remain with him until a veiy 
late hour at night on business. — ^^ After the consultation ^d 
ended, Mr. Jackson accompanied his friend to the outer 
dpor of the prison, which was locked, the key remaining in" 
Ae door, and the keeper in a very profound sleep,. probaUjr. 
oppressed with wine,-— There could hai» heea no dUBcuHy 
in his esciiping) even subsequent to the departui^ of bis. 
ftiead, and without his consent j-i— but he adopted a<£Serent 
eonduet, he locked the- door after his gue^, aw<dfe tbe 
keeper, gave hi|n tbe key, and retired to his apaitmeat.'^— 
This is recorded by Dr. A|c N«vin to prove he had a hlgk 
sense of honour ;— «*tbe honour idiioh remains to l^e hailed, 
when by- caning a door e&oape is certain,. appears tome 
romantic and unnatuaral^ nor do I conceive such ^, feelioK 
would operate, in smck a situadon, upon imy human being.*n» 
Mr. Jackson was j^obably bewildered .and coni^d by ^ 
unexpectedness of ^e occurrence ;^«id^ stupified and iafiain 
tuated, had not presence of mbid to sduse die ctkicalmcmieiit 
of escaping from death, though aftemvards he hadfiortitud&tsi 
meet it undaunted. — But of all thevictims of tius unfortunate 
rebellion, Lord Edward Fitzgerald wa^ the most generally' 
deplored. — A vyairant had been issued against him, but be 
escaped^ and remmnedundiscovered upwards of two months^ 

mm. * ' « 

in the ci^ of Dublin: he was distevered^ however^ on |he , 



IS5 

nineteenth of May^ at the house of one M urphy, a dealer in 
feathers^ who resided near St. James's gate. On the police 
officers entering the room, the unha|^y nobleman made a 
desperate defence : though he had no other weapon than a 
dagger, he wounded two of the principal of them ; Mr. Jus- 
tice Swan and Captain Ryan ; — the latter died of his wounds 
shortly afterwards, and the former still feels, at intervals, the 
efFec^ of his. Lord Edward himself expired in great agony 
on the third of the following month, from the effects of thi3 
furious conflict, as he had been wounded in the jsboulderi 
by the shot of a pistol from Major Sirr. LcMrd Edward who 
was brother to the Duke of Leinster, and married to a 
French lady, supposed to be a natural daughter of the late 
"Duke of (Cleans, was eminently qualified for the direction 
of rem^ltttionary commotion; being a man of daring co«- 
tMge^ a moat active spirit, and of a family highly respected, 
fo£ its aneient greatness, by the lower classes of thelrish.-*^ 
He had ser?ed in his Majesty's army, where he had been 
kighly esteemed for his courage and military conduct, his ho* 
nour, humanity, and candour. Mr. Cobbett, as is wdl known, 
was segeant-*major of the regiment to wliich his IcHrdship 
belonged:— ^ina work latelypublished, he gives h\mthe cha-» 
i^cter of being* a young man of the most perfect integrity, 
Mr. Cobbett does not do more honour to Lord Edward, than 
he does to himself, by this manly tribute of respect to 
the memory of a man, who did not become a rebel frMi self*^ 
ish or ambitious motives, but a warm, though mistaken zeal 
fortbegoodof his country, and of human kind. -^—WbateveF 
may be tmd of the other conspirators, 

*' He only, io a general honest thooght. 
And common good to all^ made one of them. 
His life was gentle; and the elements 
So mixt in him^ that nature might stand up. 
And say to all the world, ' This was a man r** 



4a 



CHAP. VHL 



DubmW. 



JT has been often a sut^iect of wonder^ diat In a city of 
9uch extent aa Doblin^ there should be so few places of 
public ainusen^ent :-«— but ooe theatre, not very large, nor 
in general well-fiUed: that it is not wdl fiUe4» howeircrj 
is not want of taste in the public^ but want of good coa** 
dtt^ m the managers* Mooqpoly is unfavourable to 
exertion, and where there is only one Theatre, or one 
manufacture, the article is seldom good : The manageioaat 
of the Dublin Theatre has been long complained of^ — 
the managers were generally j^layers; — ^{dayers ar% seldoito 
mca of business in any country, as sejldom, perhaps, ia 
this, as any other one* Mr* Daly, (os, auuiy years the 
potentate of Crow street, was an admirable man of ple»* 
sure, but an indifferent actor : he performed the lovct 
both <m and off the Stage ; on it with little applause-M^ 
but off it with the greatest >-*-he always rehearsed with the 
handsomest actresses, and acquitted himself (it is repoited) 
lo the perfect satisftction of these consummate judges :-->&ese 
rehearsals, however, were more agreeable than profitable 5 
be was oU^ed to resign his sceptre^ to extrieate himself 
from his involvements ; and, like the Mark Antcmy he had 
itften mimicked, lost his little world for hve. Mr.Fre-- 
derick Jones succeeded him, and I believe has not succeeded 
mudi better I— he was a man of pleasure also, but whether 
Venus or Bacchus was hb favourite divinity, I have never 
karBed}r-- inistruited by the &te of his predecessor^ he 



67 

probably avoided the former^ and so got ship-wrecked on 
the latter. 



«4 



IiKidit in ScyllaCD cupiens evitare Charybdem/! 



Until lately Mr. Holman was acting manager — he is a 
gentleman and a good player; (and, what players either good 
cnr bad seldom are,) a man of sense and education likewise : 
he was educated at Oxford, and intended fo]f the church. Jji 
early youth, captivated With its beauty at a distance, and ig- 
fiorairt of the snake that luriced in the grass, he plunged 
iiito the wilderness of a theatre, and forsook the sober consi* 
^ieration and steady lustre of a respectable profession, f(x the 
ephemeral reputation and transient blaze of a player's life. 
Mr. Holman is likewise an author, and has written a 
-comedy of no inconsiderable merit.^—Notwithstmiding these 
advantages, he was far from giving satisfacti<m in the dis- 
eharge of his office $ and lately relinquished bis situation 
Infavoyrof a Mr.Crampton, a gendeman distinguished as 
ar private actor at the Kilkenny Theatre. Mr. Crampton 
is only now in the commencement of his reign, and^ as is 
common at the commencement of all reigns, great thingi; 
are expected of him : — he has promised much; (as is like* 
wise commcm ;) I hope he will keep his word. — The golden 
age <rf Thespis will, I hope, be restored, for the sake of the 
poor actors, who have hitherto lived under a bmzenj <»r at 
the best a ^ver one ;*— literally they have been half starved; 
' but I trust thii^ foul stain will soon be removed, and that 
these mimic Kings and Queens, and Princesses, *^ these 
walking shadows,'^ 5^ these poor players'' who fume and strut 
their hour upon the stage,'' will be able to purchase victuals^ 
tp fill up the folds of their robes, and give tbam the look of 
*' true counterfeits." — I have been at two or three plays since 
Ht^ representation of the Free Knigbts^-«'*the house wa;^ 

t 2 



,^< 



68 

- badly ffllcd every night.™Crdw.strect is somewhat largely 
than the Hay-market Theatre, and bears a strong reaenoK 
blance to it ; — the actors, in general, are not above medio- 
crity ; nor are they below it :— with the exceptioii of a few, 
they are equal, I think, to the present Covent Garden Coms- 
t>ahy. — I wished td see them in genteel comedy, and went 
tb the Belles Stratagem---the part of Flutter was done by 
Mr. Lewis, son of the late performer of that name ; he does 
Dot possess all the abilities of his father, but he doe9 much at 
bis vivacity, and all his restless and fidgety matiner on the 
stage. — I would advise him to reform that latter part ; if be 
cannot imitate his father^s beauties, he should not copy hii 
defects. — TheDoricourtof Mr. Dunn, was not worse, perhaps^ 
than the Doricourt of any performer now on the London 
boards ; but it did not come up to my conception of the parC 
It is a difficult matter for players, little accustomed in early 
life to the society of gentlemen, to assume their manners 
and appearance ; they almost always fail, therefore, and sub- 
stitute the tricks of a fop, or a petit maitre, in their room. 
Mr. Fulham in old Hardy, made me laugh heartily — his 
humour was chaste and correct } he is no caricaturist, like 
Munden; who, in the same part, I am sure, would have db- 
gusted by Lis vulgar ferce and extravagant mummery.— I do 
not deny that this gentleman has-merit as a comic actor— ft 
is not to his acting, I object, but the excess of it ;-*-above all,, 
I object to his abominable contorsions of countenance, 
which make acting contemptible, and the human face 
bideoto.* — I am told he never allows any of his family to go 
to the theatre the night he performs : he has reason — n^o 
man could command the respect of his children, if they 
saw him make such a fool of himself* The actresses are still 
better than the actors — Miss Walstein is a charming per* 
former — herljetitia Hardy was an admirable piece o£ 
ftding-^e had all the airy graces, the playful ele-> 



j69 



^pnce of the original-*-she was jceally a . syren, mho 
snag and danced men out of their senses.— She would 
be fr great acquisition to the Ixmdon stage ; where there ia 
BO good actress in this description of ^rts, now that Miss 
Duncan appears so seldom ; and over Miss Duncan she has 
the advantage of greater youth, and greater beauty. Mist 
Walsteih, I believe, plays tragedy likewise ; and her counte- 
fiance is undoubtedly cast in a tragic mould; a witty writer 
<ri]geot8 to her smile in comedy, which he terms a sepul** 
•ciMralone, and compares to plating on a coffin;—- »he accuses 
4ier of having a great deal of vanity, which he attributes to 
Ite success she had in the character in which I had the good 
fortune to see her^ I wish, (he proceeds to say) she could 
^ *get 8<MKie of her male acquamUmce to translate for her^ciy 

^Im excellent precept ^ Horace ; 

♦ 

'' Memento— servare meptera^ 
'' Ab insolenti tempefatam 
'* LaHtid.' 



»> 



Misi Smith I have again seen, for the third.time; and am 
moreandmore confirmedinthe opinion I first formed of her^ 
alie is a great tragic actress ; such as Mrs> Siddons perhaps 
was, butisno)onger.<p— When Mr. Cliffi^rd and his conunit* 
jlee undertook to correct the abuses of Ck>veiat Garden, I 
wcmder they never asked the reason of her exclusion from 
it: —she would be an acquisition, I will venture to assert, to 
k, or to any theatre in the universe* There may he said, at 
.present, tobe no tjragic actress at Covent Garden. Mh. Sid- 
dons is no longer one ; her powers are consumed, and her 
talents decayed, from th^ aU-powerful band of time ; which 
iovertums palaces and temples, as well as liuman intellect, 
and has no mcNre merey on empires than actresses.— No per- 
son, I will venture to assert, could see Mrs. Siddons wiA 
pleasure now, who saw h&t for the firs^ tinie ; — $be p)Mi^ 



from the force of lu^it only i whidi reeonciies m to Ar 
most nsoseons thmgs> ai^ attadies ua to uj^esss, beeaim 
when We kpeur it first k was beauty t-»^This force of kaUt 
h of service to some of her Bear relatioos^ as wril aa 
to herself. like <4d Transfer^ m the novel of Zebaeo, at 
jLoBdoQ audience find nothiag agrees with them so well aa 
«vhat they are aceastomed ib ;-*«coiild any thh^ ebe render 
tolerable a large unwiddy wcanan, upwards of sioDly-yeMPS of 
age, counterfeiting the appearance, and mimiciiiAg due 
light and airy tread of lovely and fesctnating youth^^-Coidd 
«fae even be endured with her &c6 to the Hudknoe I mnsA fM^ 
tlie delusion vaniisfa the mooaent she tarns her badbi yet the 
back is not the least prominent part of Mrs« SiddojMi^ and 
her friends may argue, with mueh plausibility, $heia atfll a 
great actress at bottom ;**«even h^ face, though so geiieiaii|r 
admired, never pleased me— it is cast in too antique a 
mould-^— it does not show to advantage on a modem stagi^ 
or a woman's shoulders, though it might in front of fL Roman 
Legion. 

To a lover o£ the drama, Crow^street has one great advan- 
tage over Covent-Gardeh*^«which, perhaps, more than ocMaoh 
pensates for the greater magnificenceand deooratiaiia of iiie 
latter — ^theire is much more vaiiety*^the apftelite is not -pal- 
led witii'^ disgusting repetition-— a new« piece seldomrmia 
longer than a few nights, andpantomimes are rarely facongiit 
forward.-— In Covent-Garden, last winter, thai most 
intolerably vile, of this vile tribe, Harlequin Pedfaii^ yms 
perfofftod every night for six weeks ^erther.— 'I vnminr 
what an enlightened foreigner would thiok, or say, of dte 
English nation, if he judged it by its amusements ?«^«*he eocrid 
not think us philosophers, and bis politeness would DoCaMmr 
him to say, he 'found us ideots.-v^As»>ther advantage wfakh 
the Dublin theatre has, is its size ;— the/immense buiUt- 
' iBgs, which l^e avarice of London manajjera has iadoocd 



n 



J 



iimn to mise^ is as unfiavonrable to ccfmfort as to luitiml 
■elii]^ ;— 'they are too lai^e jeitber for hearing <x seeinf 
dit^ctij;— *the aetor zniiist rai«e hi$ voice, and distort his 
couDtenaoce, and action^ to be seen ov heard, at any dis- 
tance : his pic^re, like the series, must be larger than the 
Ufe^ or it mil not be Yisible-<»if he wants to express siar- 
psise, a start will not suffice ; he must jump two paces back^ 
lice ft fencing master : if he wishes to displ^ horror, he 
■lust throw fats face oat of all human likeness— if he 
speaks iiv anger, it must be in thunder ; and even k>ve, and 
«omyw,mttst be unheard, or delivered on the key of rage ;«•* 
the consequence of this is, that the actor is deterkmiled— «* 
Us atlentioa is diverted from his pifft to his person, from 
'the aatund display of passicm, to the artificial display of 
action — like a lady at court in her long train and hoop, or, 
fftliior, like the felons' dance in the Beggars Opera^ the 
sikackles he wears are equally destructive to activity and 
graee. iiiNor is the effect it has had on this audience less 
considerable; iht taste of the public is vitiated^— unable 
to eaj<qr tke wholesome food of the legitimate drama, they 
ImfFt lost, wil^ the" small houses of former times, all relish 
lor Ae plays of better days : Mr. Keiphle himself is no 
aseaii suibrer by this. — I will venture to assert, he never 
was half sen rapturously i^hiuded, as the little ftiry Dew- 
drqp in the pantomime I have just mentioned. — He was 
4iU^ed to yield even to more despicable, rivals — the flutes 
jaiid clarionets of his owntheatre.— »I saw him one night last 
winter in IMhcbeth*— he pakes his first appearance, as is 
yeneralty known# at the head of his army7 accompanied 
fay Banquo, and the music playing a march..---As he 
was b^i&ning to speak, a* gentleman near me damned his 
mimf tongue for putting a stop to that beautiful Scotch tune 
he haidbeeu listening to.-— T observed, indeed, a very gene* 
sal k^patiesee d»fc va^hfyto have both him and Mrs, Siddoas 



"^ 



72 

oflTth^ stfi^e, in ordei' to have the witcteli on^ wbos^ st*g^ 
ingy and grotesque appearance^ seemed to delight the house 
prodigiously. -»-In truths we seem fast approaehing to the 
state of ancient Rome^ when actors wore maska, and nwti 
speaking-trumpets — when spectacle, and pantomime, wene 
alone considered, and the public sat whole ni^ts looking 
at them. — This was an important period in the Romaii 
history, and well deserves the attention of every thinking 
man — dramatic representations, of little moment in themr 
selves, are of consequence, as they denote the state of the 
public mind* — Rome, with her taste for the ancient drama, 
lost her student virtues, likewise ;-- '-a nation, which loses its 
virtues, soon loses its freedom ; — she was destroyed by 
luxury first, and then by the enemy, — ^Tbe period of pantor 
mime was the period of her ^U, 

I forgot to mention that I visited this morning the exr 
hibition of paintings, lately opened' for the benefit of the 
distressed manu&cturers — ^the price of admission was a 
shilling; and I meit with a number of well*dressed persons 
of both sexes. — Though a few capital pictures by some 
eminent artists have been exhibited, the arts still appear 
in their infancy in this eountry.-^r-Comerford, as a miniature 
painter, is in high repute both here and in JLondon ; and an 
artist of the name of Dunn, who is at present in Lohdoa, 
has made very near approaches to the firm and characteristic 
stj*!e ^of the former, with a much greater delicacy of pen- 
cil. — Mr. Dunn, I understand, is at present employed in 
painting the likeness of her royal highri^s the Princess 
Charlotte of Wales. — Cummin is esteemed • an excellent 
portrak painter, and the landscapes of Gabrielli, an Italian 
ar^'f % ur? remarkably fine ; possessing all that richness and 
glow of tint« in his skies and distances, so much admired 
in the works of Claude Lorrain, and many of his country- 
men. — Several (tf the portraits appeared to me to povsess 



s 



fpiieat excellence, but that of Sir Henry Jebb (a celebrated 
aecouchor) by Robinson, an artist now no more, par- 
tieularly attrs^cted my observation. — The impression it made 
upon Doe^ was not, however, so muah occasioned by its merits, 
though the fa^e was said to 19^ painted by thelate G. Romney, 
m by a witty epigram I met wiith, on his being knighted by 
.the late Duke of Rutland*-- which, if iTecoUect right, is as 
foUows ; 

" You made Sir Henry Jebb a knight^ 
He should have been a Lord by rights 
And then the ladies' cry might be^ 
Oh ! Lord, good Lord, deliver roe." 

Thtse isxhibiiioi^, which heretofore, as I am informed, 
were supported by die casual contributions of individual ar- 
tists, have lately been put on a more permanent footing; 
by the .establiahmen^ of a society of artists, for the purpose 
of pcomtiibig the study of this delightfulart,— -but what may 
be its final success time only «an discover. 



CHAP. IX. 



Dublin. 

Jam come here at -an unlucky period — visiting Dublin, 
in August, is as bad aa going to the country a.t Christmas— 
-^e town, is as bare of company now, as the trees are then 
oi leaves, or the earth of verdure.-— —Fashion has prodigi- 
ous influence in this metropolis 3 and the gentry, merchants, 
and tradesmen, think it incumbent on them to pass t|ie 



7* 

summer cmt of town, because the feshiouiliteis of Lontai 
go at that season to watering places.— —^Notwithstaodng 
Hit gaiety of DubHn^ I do not think a stranger would find k 
a pleasant residence, after its no?elty had subsided ;-^1wfe 
is, no doubt, much hospitality, and, on slight introduction, he 
may get many dinners ;<^but as ostentation mingles in hi 
fiaU proportion with kindness of heart, in these 
this hospitality is rather a holiday suit, than a plain jwu««^i., 
it is drawn forth on state occasions, but is too costly for 
every day's wear. — ^The usages of Dublin make it necessary 
to give dinners, often beyond the income of the entertainer j 
who, in bis ordinary mode of living, probably pays the pe- 
nalty of his occasional profusion. — He never wishes, there- 
|we,to be taken unawares, or to expose hiikiself to the 
efaaoce of being caught at his humble meal of rauCtoa 
and whisky punch, by the man who a few d^ be£oie had 
feasted with him on venison and claret ;<^— a stranger, diet««> 
toe, does not find his hospitality a resource at tbi lime he 
wants it most — ^in the hour of languor and lassitude^ wbea 
it would be so agreeable to have a house to step into on the 

footing of unreserved intercourse. ^Nor does the public 

life perform what the private denies— the saiowr tmre is 
but moderately advanced in Dublin— there aie none of 
those comfortable eating-houses in which London so much 
abounds, where one often meets rational and agreeable 
society, and has a good dinner .at a reasonable price 5 with- 
out beibg obliged to swallow a quantity of sloe-juice, which 
the courtesy of England denominates wine. — ^The taverns in 
]>dl>iitt are either so misembly low, that a respectaMe 
person cannot be seen going into than, or are equally ex<^ 
travagant with Ae most expensive London ones— 4lte kid- 
gmg houses, with some exceptions, and I have been hxdtf 
enough to get into one, are liable to the same objection-—* 
they are either bamicks,whieh the mop seemar never to batt 



75 

lifted, oi bejrond all reason extnivii^puit InaU tfaeac^aod 
'Tftri6ii& odier conveniences, Lotidon abounds to a' 4(|prte 
that makes it of all other places the most agreeable resH 
dence fora man of small fortune — nor is there, perhaps, a 
town in the world, where a man who hangs loosely \fj sof 
eiety, can glide more gently down the stream of time, or 
where, if he cannot greatly enjoy, he can endure life better. 
——^Dublin has another great disadvantage — ^paradoxical 
as it may appear, it is too small for retirement ; a stranger 
can never long remain so — curiosity busies itself about his 
profession, liis fortune^ and manner of living, until every 
thing about him becomes known : he may be said, therefore, 
tobetoomuch on his good behaviour. — ^Tliis,as £ira9 morality 
la caneemed, b perksps an advantage ; but in various munr 
iMttersof eoMiomy it is attended with mai^ evik ;*-4i man 
wat)ehed by eyes more numerous and wakefiol than those of 
Argus, can neither eat, drink, nor dress, as he likes— he 
einmot live for himself, but the world.— -Places of amuse- 
ment are not numerous here — until lately there was but 
one theatre;— «-even that resource will not continue, many 
days longer, as it shordy closes ioft the summer.-- ^Drinking 
will then be the only amusement \ and it is not half so good 
a summer as a winter one. . The weather just now is ii^ 
auffembly warm, and wine is by no means ' so agreeable a 
beverage as water.— *I shall, therefore, leave this in a day or 
two, to breathe the cooler air of the Northern mountains, 
where excessive heat is as rare as adultery ••^A traveller caa 
no more quit a town, however, than he ean turn off asci^- 
vant, without giving it a ehai»cter,*<-*like. an epilogue, alto 
a new pli^, it is always expected of liim.««-In confoemity, 
tberefovei to immeBMurial usage, I shall say a fow words of 
the geMnd state of aoctety and manners in Dublin | 
though when I apeak» I had better perhaps remaunsiknti 
u^en I seett to move^Iiaay make fittb psvgitjw} tod wh^ii 



76 

I flatter myself wiUi gmng a group^ I may on^ 

sketch a few individuals. ^There are few resident 

nobility in Dublin — ^Irish Nobility is a sickly and delicate 
plant — like the myrtle it does not do, in this nordiem cli^ 
mate ^ it thrives only in the sun-shine of court fiivour-— it 
is not a noun-substantive kind of greatness ; it cannot stand 
1>y itself; it leans for support on the minister, who often 
finds the propping up of this tender vine an embarrassing 
and expensive species of gardening. — People of large landed 
property are equally rare ; these gentry, like swallows, take 
an annual flight to .England, where they hop about from 
London to Weymouth, from Bath to Cheltenham, till tfaek 
purses are as empty as their heads, when they return to 
wring further sums from the hard hands* of their wretched 
tenimts, who seldom see them but on such occasions. 
The learned professions may be thereftnre said to form the 
aristocracy of Dublin — law, physic, and gospel, take Ihe 
lead here, and give the ton in manners, as well as morals 
and literature. — These three professions go hand-m-hand ; 
though baud passibus sequis; law is always the foremost— <a 
physician can be but a knight^ or at the best, physician to 
the Lord-Lieutenant, — a lawyer may be hard Chancellor, 
and rule the L9rd-Lieutenant liimself ; — the woolsack is 
a very comfortable seat, far'softer than the bench of a bbhop, 
and therefore much higher in public estimation. 

The Irish bar contains many men of shining abilities } 
the eloquence of Mr. Curran is well known and genera^ 
admired ; Mr. Bushe, the Solicitor-General, is considered an 
able reasoner and sound lawyer 5 and Mr. Plunkett, the late 
Attorney-General, is an admirable public speaker, eitbar at 
the bar or in parliament. —This gentleman, however, was 
severely reprobated for his conduct on the trial of Mr. 
Emmet, for high treason, about seven years ago.-r-Mr. 
Plttnket^ who was Uien ooly King's Counsel, condiicted the 



JT 



prosecutioa against this unfortunate young man^ with ft 
rancour and virulence which shocked andisurprlsed every 
person acquainted with his obligations to his father and 
family. — Mr. Plunkett's reasons for this conduct have never 
been made known^ though it injured him very much in public 
estimation. Crown lawyers have at all times been of the blood- 
hound tribe ; they seldom loose scent of their prey, either 
from considerations of gratitude or htlmanity 3 we have a 
striking instance of this in the prosecution of Lord Essex^ 
on whom the celebrated Bacon, then Attorney-General, ex- 
hausted every opprobious term in the English language, 
though this amiable nobleman had been his greatest bene- 
factor and constant and unalterable friend. — ^Thc style of the 
Irish bar is different from the English — it is less solemn 
and decorous, but more lively and animated, more glowing 
and figurative, more witty and sarcastic — it reasons 
less, it instructs less, it convinces less, but it amuses 
more ; it is more ornamented, more dramatic $ it rises 
to the sublime, it sinks to the humourous, it attempts 
the pathetic — but in all ^ this there is too much the 
tricks of a juggler. I dont say that an Irish advocate 
thinks less of his client than an English one, but he appears 
to think less; he appears tc think most of himself — of his 
cnvn reputation, of the approbation of his brethren, the ap- 
plause of the spectators, and the admiration of the Court. 
I dare say I should be most gratified by specimens of 
eloquence taken at the Irish bar, but was. either my life or 
fortune at stake, I should like to be defended — at an 
English one. 

In society the Irish lawyer is equally amusing | there is 1^ 
mixture of gentlemanly manners and professional acuteness; 
of gay repartee and classic allusion which makes him 
often an instructive, and always an agreeable companions- 
Yet even here it is easy Uy remark the traees of the defeetl 



'< 



7« 

I have mentioned-'— a rage to shine^ and disposition <b 
dazzle — ^his wit cloys by repetition, and his allusions are 
often forced, and £BQr«fetched — dif&cuitly found, and not 
*Vorth the trouble of seeking : — he is too fond of antithesis, 
lUiewise, axkA says smart, rather than sensible things ; spe- 
cious rather than solid things. — Th*is disposition, howerer, 
to be witty rather than wise, is not confined to the gen- 
tlemen of the bar, but is universal through the city — ^in 
every party I have been in, talkers were many, and listeners 
were few ; and wit, or what was meant to be such, was ban- 
died about with the bottle^ or the cards. — As many of these 
would-be-wits had little pretensions to it, we had often 
laugh, when there was no joke, and much merriment when 
there was little reason for it. — They are great punners, and, 
to do them justice, I heard sonie excellent ones. — I would re- 
commend the editor of the Morning Post, who seems so 
partial to this species of humour, to import a quantity for 
^e use of his paper, as the stock on hand is of the vilest 
kind* — I am not clear, however, but this constant effo 
after wit, produces beneficial effects in Dublin society — ^it 
animates the man and sharpens his faculties, and makes him 
alive to the approbation of those about him; — he is the com- 
plete reverse, therefore, of the lazy, lounging, man of 
fashion, in London j who holds it the essence of ton to be 
haughty, silent, supercilious, and indifferent } who, unlike 
Falstafi^ is not only not witty himself, but a damper of it 
in others— who sits by the side of genius without a wish 
to be instructed by it, by the side of venerable old age, with- 
out a desire to contribute to its comforts, and by the side of 
beauty, which he surveys with the scrutlniaang look of a 
jockey at a horse*fair, without the smallest effort to make 
Mias^ agreeable. 

The lower classes of ^e inhabitants of this ci^ have 
fkSsarded abundant mat<»ials tp the dramsdsi^ as well as thb 



J 



toiimt-«*-tbey are repfeneiteil as a wrong-hieadftdy and wann- 
hearted^ a Mdumucai woA i^ce»^o * kind of people ; who 
get dnmk atid make buUs, and who caiinot open their 
m>uth« that aomething fiinny and witty does not come 
tumblipg out, llkepearls^eyerytitne dbe spoke, fr<Ma the lipa 
of the fair pmces^ Parizade, in the Arabiian Nights Enter- 
tainments. I do not deny that tbei;e may he some founda- 
tion for this chasacter ; but if I am to judge from what I 
have seen myselfj it is gr^eatly exaggerated. — A Dablui 
faU^k-guard, like a London one, may sometimes utter & 
^[Hiaint or witty sayings which the uneouthness of his ap^ 
pefMTance, and the singularity of his accent^ may render 
more striking; but I should suppose most of the storica 
told of him are withoutany foundation ; and that their authom 
give as recollection, what is only invei^on. 

Luxury has made as great progress amimg people in busineaa 
here, fis in any other placed ever visited. — A shqp-keeper 
gives splendid enteitainments, and his wife elegant routs, in 
which her own manner and appearance, that of the females 
jihe invites, and the costliness and embellishments €t hev 
jfumiture, would bear comparison with persons of a mucll 
higher rank ; nor does her husband acquit himself with lea| 
pK^riety at the foot of his table, or in the drawan^-ioom, 
\n this respect the Dublin shop-keeper has infinite advan- 
ta^ over the London one-— in n^rals he is not, I believe, in* 
ferior, but in manner^ decidedly superior; he is cheerful and 
^asy^ frank, and unembarrassed — in conversation he is livdly 
and pleasing — he may not have much to say, but the man** 
ner is eisLcellent ; his ideas, from the nature of his professio0i» 
are not numerous ; but, like the goods in his shop, he pos*- 
sesses the art of shewing them off to advantage. The unii* 
>ersal prevalence of good breeding, among all descriptio^fi 
of respectable pei^le in Dublin must strike the most Dm* 
observant spectator—to assign a plansibk wmm for i^ 



¥ ' 



80 

would not be ea^y. 1 would attribute it In a great 
to vanity ; to a slavish imiintion, and servile Mlnriration of • 
fashion and rank, which leads thenoi to adopt their prejudi^ 
ces, to echo their opinions^ to copy their manners, and to- 
boast of their .acquaintance. Vanity, indeed, seems the prcK' 
minent feature of every inhabitant of Dublin — he is vain 
of himself, vain of his city, of its beauty, of the ^pl«i-. 
dour of its public buildings, and of its vast superiwity ov«r 
London, in this respect. Doubtless, he is deserving of 
praise, which he would get more readily, if he did not de- 
mand it so imperiously;— thp difference betwieen a citizen of 
Xiondon and Dublin seems to be this — th^ latter Is vain, a«A 
t^ie former is proud | — he has a lofty opinion of his coUirfay 
Itnd himself j he never dreams that this can be disputed i 
and, satisfied with it himself, is indifierent even if it should: 
the latter is not so assured of a ready acquiescence to his 
claims, either for his city or himself; perhaps he is not so^ 
well assured of them himself; nor if he was, could he exist 
so well on his own resources. His advantages, and supe- 
riority, must be reflected from the eyes, the tongue, and 
consideration of others, to make them truly valuable to- 
himself. In this observation, however, I do not deny but 
I may be refining too much, and that Dublin vanity only 
strikes me more, because I am accustomed to it less. In 
the account I have just been giving, I beg leave to be un- 
derstood I only comprise the Protestants ; I have n<it seen a 
sufficient number of Catholics to form a decided opinion of 
their character ; though I have seen enough to be convinced 
that there is a considerable difference between them and 
Protestants. — In their air and manner, in their ready acqui • 
esccnce, and smiling civility, I think I perceive the traces 
of tlie thraldom in which they have so long been heldj 
while in the erect and uprigtrt step of the Protestant, we 
reci^nize the freeman» 



•I 

The cltioens of Dublia (Catholics I believe as well as 
fVotestaatsj^e hospitable ; how much of this is benevo- 
Iwoe, , how much dstentation^ is an ungracious point for a 
man who has benefited by it to decide ; nor does it admit of 
easy decision. I should be tempted^ howeyer^ to give them 
credit for a €<»siderable portion ^ the former; if some 
•Uoy mixes with the gold ; if the statue is partly brass, and 
paslly cky, it ii$ the same, perhaps, with most of our virtues, 
Mid fliost of our actions. This hospitality, however, com- 
pwed to what it was in former times, b much on the 
deeline :— writers like me; who cheerfully eat their dinners, 
aod allow them no credit for giving them, may have some 
share in this,— *but the increasing pressure of the times, 
which makes it every year more difficult to support a family, 
is probably the great reason:— *along with this, hospitality is 
seldom to be met in excess in any town, when it comes to a 
certain magnitude, or in any community, at a certain point 
of civilization. But if hospitality has diminished, charity 
remains ; were the &ults of the inhabitant of Dublin ten 
tim^s greater than I have described his foibles, he has 
charity enough to cover them alt ; his foibles he has in 
common with others, his charity is peculiarly his own. I 
know of no spot in existence, of the size of the city of Dub- 
lin, where there is such unbounded munificence : in London, 
no doubt, there are many valuable institutions for the relief 
of distress,— and God forbid I should undervalue them,— ^ 
but still it must be remembered, that much is compulsory, 
and not meritorious ; much the mere consequence of bound- 
less wealth—the man who rolls on guineas, may wellbe- 
stow farthings on the poor. But the charity of Dublin is 
not strained — It is not founded on acts of Parliament; it is 
not weighed and measured by the standard of law ; nor is it 
the gilded offering, the filleted and garlanded sacr^ce of 
wealth. It gives not on compulsion, it gives not from a 
horad. The waters of the Liffey do not bear, like the 



82 

waves of die Thames, the riches of the two hembpherM— 
the inhabitaHts of its banks hare no Eastern ipnes of gold; 
bat they have what is better still, — thej have buiDane and 
benevolent hearts. 

The number of beggars in Dublin is remarked by all tm^ 
vellers, and is said to prove its poverty— Admirable reasoaersp 
ivhosee nothing but on one side ! — Does it not prove its. due 
rity likewise ? — There are few beggars in London — what ia 
the reason — there is little poverty, perhaps, will be tbct 
answer! — Isthatso? — is that indeed so? — is there really little 
poverty in London ?*— Alas ! there is much ; much suffer- 
ing, much sorrow, much want — in every quarter, in every 
lane, and in every street^-^but there are few beg^ys— 
if there were many they would starve^ 



CHAP. X. 

Dbog&bda^ 

I Left Dublin at eight this morning in the Drogheda coach; 
I took my seat the day before — and was desired to be there bf 
seven precisely : they hoped I would not take it amiss, but 
they assured me they would not wait a moment longer for 
King George himself.-— I was punctual, and came at seven 
precisely.— ThoMgh they would not wait for King George, they' 
did for n little hunch-backed passenger ; and did not set 
off for an hour afterwards. — We were surrounded by a num-' 
her of beggars — every person, both on and in the coach, 
gave them something — a venerable old fellow, without a 
hat^ and with a beard as long as a Jewish RabfoPs, divided it 
among the others. — No doubt he made a fair division, for 
we heard DO complaints. — The country we drove through 
was level and tolerably fertile ; the houses of the poaisahti^ 



c 

liafl tOl the external markfl of ca itfort ; there were Hot many 
gentlemeii's «eats> but a nnnilP^f g&y little boxes, which 
hckeA like the summer retreats of the tradesmen of Dublin. 
We stopped a few moments at Swords, an inconsiderable 
|>la^e about seven mil^ from town-*^I got out to see it 
fa^etter. 1 was surveying it with more attention, than it 
deserved, when a gentleman came up and accosted me by 
Biy aame%-^— I did not at first recollect htm; but when he 
asked me if I had not come over from Holland in the yeiff 
179^5 on board a transport, with two wounded officers, I 
immediately recognized him; — he was thea-recovering 
Irom the effects of two dreadful wounds, and was as thin 
as a skeletons — the hospitality of Ireland had now given him 
&e lookof an Alderman, or a Church- warden; — no wonder, 
thei^fore,ldid not at first recollect him — ^he was a very 
jTOung man then, and had been newly appointed a captain 
in the 1 7th Foot. — In the battle of the 19th September, 
a putty which he commanded attacked a French redoubt; 
they were on the point of carrying it, when some confusion 
tpdcfdace, and several began to run : he was endeavour- 
ing to rally them, when he received a shot in thp body and 
fell, but instahtly got up again ; his men were still retreat- 
ing and he was calling to them to stop, when he was shot 
aBecond time n little below the knee; — as the bone was 
iHidkeu, he was then unable to move himself : he begged 
iome of the soldiers to take him on their shoulders, but, 
regardless of his intreaties, they ran on without giving him 
assistance. — ^Amoment afterwards, the French were on him; 
they tore his gorget rudely from his breast, his sword from 
lus side, they even felt hi& pockets (ot money, and took his 
hat from his head ; in which situation they carried him into 
the redoubt and laid him on the ground. — Abo^t an hour 
afterwards, the redoubt was attacked by a fresh party—* 
who forced their way in ; and a short but desperate con« 

& 2 



84 

flict ensued ; during whidb he was trampled on, both by 
French and English — he thinks he must have beea 
inevitably killed, but luckily a French soldier, mortally 
wounded, fell over him and protected him from the tread of 
others. He was at length in the hands of his countrymen ; 
by whom he was put into an hospital cart, and sent about 
two miles back to the Surgeons — all his sufferings during 
the day were trifling compared to the anguish he endured 
from the motion of the cart — he fainted with the pain seve- 
ral' times. The surgeon, after surveying his broken bone, 
pronounced the necessity of amputation, which was perftwrm- 
ed that instant, at Captain G.'s own request. — During the 
operation, he vomited blood several times, which poured 
likewise from the orifices in his back and breast. His re- 
covery was long despaired of; a mortification was apprehen- 
ded in his thigh, and it was evident he was shot through the 
lungs: — youth and a good constitution, however, prevailed^ 
and when I met him first, he was almost convalescent. — 
Government appointed him some years afterwards Barrack 
Master to this little town, where he lives very conrfbitably. 
This rencontre revived the memory of the time I passed in 
Holland, and I amused myself on my return to the coach 
with the recollection of various incidents that occurred dtt** 
ring that period. I landed in Holland the day after the 
Duke of York — I hope his R. H. found firmer footing 
than I did — the beach was a perfect puddle, and, widioiit 
a bull, I might be said '^ to have stepped upon Issdd to my 
waist up in water.*' — What the interior of Holland may be 
I cannot pretend to say, not having penetrated far into ^e 
country; but I did not like its first appearance^ — ^there was 
too much water in the Jand^cape— for, not to mention the 
sea and the earth, the sky was pouring down rain ia 
torrents. There was some novelty, however, in a regiment 
of Cossacks, which was encamped a little higher up oa tbt 



f 

V 

I 



85 



fc 



beach ; the sentinels on dut^in f^ront of their tents, in 
blankets fastened over their VKs^s with pins Or skew- 
ers ; — though this had a comrortable, it could not be 
said to have a very warlike appearance. — It is unneces- 
sary, I believe, to mention that I did not belong to the fight- 
ing part of the army,— -an author is seldom a warrior ; his 
pen is his weapon ; and, like the two literary heroes wlio 
fought in London some time ago, his bullets are always paper 
ones. — I was one of a numerous corps of young surgeons, 
sent over at the requisition of Sir Ralph Abercombie — heroes 
might inflict the wound ; mine was the humbler task to 
find the planter. — I spenf some weeks at Hunesden, where 
the general hospital was ; I had pknty of emjdoyment, hard- 
ly time, indeed, to take my meals : this was of less conse- 
cj^ence, however, as they were very easily taken.— The world 
has been called a great sepulchre — with equal propriety, 
the village of Hunesden might have been termed one vast 
hospital— -Churches and stables, houses and barns, were 
filled with sick and wounded soldiers; — I was quartered in the 
)iouse of an old fisherman. — I did not, however, fare much 
the better for this ; whether it was that Englishmen were 
plenty, or fish were scarce, I seldom tasted any. — On the 
26th of September, I was ordered up to the army with 
several others — a great battle was daily expected, 'and a 
pumber of additional surgeons was accessary. — We were put 
into An old Cow-bouse, where, having got our tournequets 
^nd bandages in order, ^' we hovelled us like swine and 
/9g4ies forlorn," in short and nausty straw, — eat mutton 
when we could get it, and drank gin, and smoked tobacco, 
^when we could get none. — On the 1st of October, gjeneral 
.orders were issued for the battle, which was to take place 
next day. About two o'clockthe Duke of York, attended Uya 
.^roQm, and accompanied by a single aid-de-camp, passed 
.by were we were stationed j he conversed for some time 



\ 






u 



•6 

with us, and displayed the apost humane consideratfbh abdixt 
the means to be used for t& aUeviation of the sufferings of 
the wounded. — Early the next morning the army^took up 
its position — I was attached to the right wing — it was not 
yet day-light, and I walked for# some time backwards and 
forwards behind the ranks ;— at seven in the morning day 
slowly broke — it was a dark and dreary morning, the rtuft 
came drizzling down, and every thing wore a look of desola- 
rion — nature seemed to mourn the foUyof her sons^wh^thiis 
inflict such misery on each other. 

^'Andforafimtafjr.aadtrickoffameb" . 
'^ Go III their gmves like beds. ** 

For some moments before the commencement oF the 
action^ the scene was a most awful and impressive one ; aH 
was solemn^ silent, and sad — there was neither sound of 
trumpet| drum, or fife — a universal stillness prevailed, 
slightly interrupted by the commands of the officers, deliver- 
ed almost in a whisper, and the sighs that burst forth invo- 
luntary from ^me of the men ; reflecting no dodbt on the 
change which a few moments might produce. — ^This to- 
guor, however, was soon dissipated by a most tremendous dis- 
charge from an immense number of pieces of cannon \ Wd 
the line slowly advanced loading and discharging their mus- 
kets— to describe the noise and disorder, confusion and 
uproar, that followed, would be impossible ; nor was I any 
longer permitted to be a witness of it.— 1 was summoned to 
. my station some distimce in the rear ; a prudent man migli^ 
still have found it not distant enough— -a curious one would 
probably have thought it too distaiit—^niy curiosity Was 
perfectly satisfied, and I found it quite near enough; — the 
wounded were now brought in, in considerable numbers^ 
and our part in the bloody drama commenced— we nvere 
principally employed in putting on tournequets, to suppress 



1 




IiimnoTrllages, Mfliicb were fiOQjptimei so excessive tKattl^e 
pAtientfii died io our liaod^ : — the fate of one poor little druii|« 
er wa« particularly distressing — ^he had a leg and a part pf 
thigh shot *way by a cannon ball ; he wa3 instantly car- 
ried to us« the drum still suspended from his neck ; he wa^ 
91, finerlooking bo^i about fourteen years of age ; he looked as 
tfjbe eould eiy^., but thought it unmanly, and endeavoured 
tol|iugh#--r5*Thi$wouldbe a poor sight for my father, (said he, 
.lookit^; up in niy face,) but I am a soldier now, and must not 
mind it" — I was busied about him, when, leaning his little 
head on bis drum, be expired* — Some of those brought in to 
us were wouHded tn-th^ iiites[|jiies« I ktiffW no part of the 
profession of a surgeoh . more tifflicting^ liian tliis : — soldiers 
are f^n^];.aw«4:e that wpuods ioi tl^se parts are mortal, 
lUid their inqtuiriRg, lopks, as they gaze on the surgeon's 
iaee^ and seek to read the fate they are afraid to hear from 
his t(^k|pa^ Qljust disjtress every heart of sensibility.-*-Be* 
twef][[i one and two, the firing slackened, .and we had the 
pleasure of hearing that the enemy >were defeated. — I ran 
^t of^my tei^t to .enjoy, for a few moments, the. welcome 
a%bt^ the day was now fine-— the smokewhich, like a cloud, 
h^d enveloped the t\yo armies, was cleared away ; and I had 
Ja.distinct view of both of them.-— I do i¥>t know how it was 
in other parts of the French lines ; but opposite me they re- 
. turat^d in the most perfect order and regulaiity, their music 
.was playing, and colours flyit^, and the whole struck me 
with the appearance of men returning from a review. — This 
was JBL hot day's work for the British army, and it was foUow- 
,€d by ascoU a night ;— «it was judged adviseable not to take 
possession of Alkm^aar till next morning, and they were 
obliged to lay aU4ii%ht on the field of battle^-^-Towards even-* 
ing I walk^ over a part of it,^ which was covered with the 
dead of both armies — French and English, Russians and 
Putchj l^y 9^ngled together ^ and the storm, which lately . 



88 

•s 

mged so \i6leiii&f in their bosoms^ wbs now btiribed hi tile 
everlasting calm cyf death. — I could not contemplate suck 
a scene without feeling melancholy^ and soon turned from 
it in sorrow and disgust. — I wtas returning slowly tentwards^ 
when I was eagerly ac(^sted by a woman, in an accent that 
left me no doubt of her country—** Ough, sweet Saviour of 
the wortd ! who ever thought of seeing you in this purgatory 
of a place ; and were you too in that devil of a battle; mid 
did you escape without either scrape or scratch?"-—! assured 
her I was alive and well, which she was very much rejoiced 
to hear ; she had been an attendant at a lying-in^hospttal, 
where I had studied^ and afterwards married a soldier.—-*! 
fancy she was then looking round for what she eouM pieft 
up ; as her pockets seemed very much stuflfed,— I did not 
dive into them^ but ! can pronounce the contents of 
her bosom excellent ; she drew from it a botlJeof exeetlent 
]gin, which she insisted on my taking a^moutbAil of.— f 
swallowed three, and never did spirits come at ■ a better 
«eason, for I was very much out of them before--* 
Albeit, little disposed to the laughing mood, I could not 
forbear smiling at the strange contrast between the 
hospital where we parted, and the field where we met 5— 
in the one we were emplc^ed in hringin|; peof>l.e imo At 
world, in the other, they were as busy, and certainly not 
less successful, in sending ' them out of it. CMP ^ 
subsequent proceedings of the army I son unable to g^ 
any account; as I was sent on the sixth, down to ibt 
Helder, and from thence on board the Aid transport> io 
take charge of ^ wounded soldiers, and two offieeKS, ih 

E^^gland :— one of them was Captain G , whom I- have 

already mentioned; the other was a Jbieutenant-Colonefy 
and a man of rank and fortune — he was a highly agreeable 
companion, as he had not only received a liberal eduemlMi, 
but possessed the most perfect elegance of uMnners^ 



the latter he perhaps valued himself too isiiich — he had 
been edueated abroad, and the coarse and clownish air^ 
the awkwafd manners, and embarrassed address of a mere 
Englishman, were often the- subjects of his ridicule*— we 
had frequent disputes on the subject ; for which we had 
abundant leisure, ^ we lay three weeks in the Texel, waitn 
iag fsx other vessels,-^-^-On our arrival at Harwich, he asked 
me to dine with him, which I mention for the sake of a, 
characteristic circumstance which occunred :*— the liouse wa» 
ao crowded with company, that we were obliged to dine in a 
bed-room — the colonel was inditing a letter, which I waa 
writing for him, to some of his friends ; when Mr. Bull, 
the landlord, came in, saying that Lord Hawkesbury, who 
was then in town with his foment of militia, would pay 
his respects to him in a few minutes, if he had no objec* 
^n. — ^When the landlord retired, I said I think I had better 
leave you-^^e.iinswered no, it is a mere visit of compli- 
m^it,andwill beoverinafew minutes— ^'besides," continued 
he smiling, ^^ we may, perhaps, bring our everlasting argU" 
ment to a conclusion ; and you may have an opportmuty 
^f judging between the untratelled English lord, and the 
'taveUed English gentleman/' — A few moments aftarwards 
Mr. Bull returned, and throwing the door open, said, ^^ My 
]jord Hawkesbury." — Unluckily for his lordship, as well 
as for my argument, there was a step into the room^ 
which was completely thrown into shade, by a large 
bed that stood between it and the window; — his Lordship 
flomdced into the room like an elephant, and his sword, 
whieh be probably was not much accustomed to, getting 
entangled between his legs, added still more to his con- 
fusion,— his bow, therefor^ was certainly not one on which 
Lord Chesterfield, (had he been present) would have be- 
frtfwed much commendation; while the courtier from 
Vienna^ was as easy and unembarrassed as a Bishop at his 



90 

prayers.— We iftay feadily pardon Lord HawfcetDury, how- 
ever^ a false step at Harwieh, if he never makes one in the 
i^tuation which be nowr holds.--— -*-*I cannot Imye done 
with this digression \^hout saying a ^few words of a man, 
on whose character of late mudi obloquy has been thn>wn— i^ 
of the recent investigation held on the ]>uke of Ym'k, it is 
not my intention tospeak-^^tfae public has heaid and decide^ 
aud we owe it respect eveti in its enrors — ^ytt the Ai* 
tare historian will not judge* hail^My, the Commandttr* 
in^Chkef) of whom nothing worse can be said, than that 
htf yielded some times to the infinence of a woman $ 
while he will do justice to the magnanimity of the Prince^ 
who so readily relinquished his honours at- !the expreis* 
aioQ o! the. pubtic will. That his conduet in Holkirf 
was most exemplary and conect| I can pronounce, as wett 
from my .own observation, as the conenrrent testimony pi 
every ofitcer with whom I hiure csnversed : his attentton was 
extended to every department in the anay $ and while ^ 
wants of the soldters were as liberaily supplied as dt^r 
tttuation "would admit of, the most perfect disctplite wHs 
preserved-^The people of Holland only knew there wiUi -a 
British army among them, by the advantages they d^ved 
from it.f by thib articles it consiimed, and the money it laid 
out ;^-they suSered n^her injury nor insult, oppression nor 
annoyance of the slightest kind. — I have Utde daubt that a 
single regiment of militia, at the period of its being first 
embodied in Irefamd, annoyed the inhabilants of any town 
iBvhere it was quartered, more than the whole JEhpitish army 
did the people of Holland. To the departa^^nt with which 
I was more immediately ctmnected, his altenti^o was un* 
bcmnded— the comforts of the sick and wounded, were die 
<ibjects of bis unwearied assiduity, and their wants were pro^ 
lEided ft>r, to a degree' timt wQuld exceed belief. — ^In the bis* 
pitals, and on board the transports, the greatest regularity 



anddeanliness were observed; there was better (ooAf and 
better attendance tbati sickness often experieliees in private 
bouses*^— Often when the Col. Commaocbnt of Helder had 
nothing better to eat than salt beef and bbcuit ; and nothing 
better tx)' drink than ram or gin-grog, they Iiad an abundaAt 
supply of ffesh meat, fermented breads and wine.— ^Thcre was 
^ positive order of bis R. H., that no officer,, whatsoever, 
should have any bread from the ovens, until the hospitals 
werefirst supplied; audi believe this order was never devia* 
ted ftom.-- Every person acquainted with tibe bonstruotion of 
hospitals, will know-how to appreciate the merits of sucbconf 
jduct— if contrast is- necessary to eahance ils value, the on^ 
medical readerwill find it in the history of our former cam« 
paigntf. That our expedition 'to Holland was awost disastrous 
bne, nobody,! believe, will venture todispij^*— -lam thorough* 
1y aware, Kfcewise, that, captivated whli the glaro^of soccessj 
Ae world almost alonqrs pranounces an unfortunate general, 
an undeserving oHS*^-4n justiee^ however, to the Duke of 
'York, w^ would do well to consider what insurmountable 
•bstaciei were opposed to him ; not only from die' oppo^ 
sitbti of man, Imt from climate and sdlj and even the 
vi^fitaiSon of heaven ; which- poured unusual moisture on a 
ieountry, of which moisture is at all times the defect^-ok- 
stacles which,' it appears to me, neither human abilities, nor 
Courage, eoidd overcome. — If human understanding could 
have foreseen them, be it remembered, it was not the I^ke 
of YoA who pkmied this e&pedition ; nor did he select 
either the time or the place of its debarkment ;— yet he was 
vilified and traduced, wl»ie the ^* author of our adventures 
in Holland*' lost neither chai^eter nor r^mtation ;--^like 
Antfisus, he rose more vigorous from his fall, and> ftv the 
misfortime of these kingdoms, was allowed to continue, 
unchecked, his misdiievous career* — ^Be ttlikewtse^iemem- 



bered; that most of our expeditions to the continent of Eu- 
rope, have eaqperienced a similar £ate to this unfortunate 
one ; — ^that our troops have been sent to contend for un- 
attainable objects, to struggle against natuie and the ele- 
ments'—against the course and order of things— the tide 
of human affiurs and opinions, and even against the deerees 
of heaven. The British army in Holland (as I fear it has oftea 
been since) was placed in a situation where victory was una- 
vailing, and defeat destruction-— where its valour, like a 
gladiator on an amphitheatre, might be admired and won- 
dered at, but could be of no real utility ;— like a sword in the 
hands of a madinan, it gleamed terrific in the eyes of the 
bye-stsmder, but had no particnbr object on which to 
fall. — That was ibe agie of chivalry with the Britis)i Minis- 
try— -they loved fighting for fightii^'s sak^ ; and wbep 
they had no other enemies to encounter, like Don Quix- 
olte, they attad^ed — windmills* — I hope the beaven-bpri^ 
minister^ on his ascent to his native sky^ did not begueath 
Us flaming mantle to any of the present ones. . 

It was now 11 o'clock ; we had. rolled over hills and dale^ 
upwaf ds of three hours, and had feasted our eyes on the 
beauties of nature ; we became, therefore, impatient for 9 
feast of a different kind, and breakfast was looked forward to 
as a most delectable occurrencp.-<— Ayoung lady called out to 
the coaehman to know how many miles it was to. the plac^ 
wh^e we were to get it. — '^ Somethii^ better than two;" he 
answered. — '^ Oh then, dear Sir," exclaimed she, ^^ drive as fast 
as ever you can, for I am very hungry, and want breakfast 
very bad.— I could eat (said she pulUug in her head and 
turning round to me) a young foal, or a child in the small- 
poK." — A few moments afterwards she asked me if I did not 
feci hungry myself. — '^ No," I said, ^^my stomach was veryde^ 
licate in a mornings and the young foal, and the other di^h 
she had been so kind to mention, had taken away my 



V 



93 



appetite." — We stopped at the Man of War, a large single 
house about half-way between Dublin and Drogheda. 
Whether it was long fasting, or the goodness of the fare, 
but I thought it one of the best brealdasting houses I ever 
Was in. — ^The bread and butter, tea, sugar, and cream, were 
excellent. — In this country Is. 7|d.is the regular charge far 
breakfast, and includes every thing, eggs, ham, &c. the 
latter, hpwever, is not generally called for, eggs being the 
fiivourite dish of the country, as well as potatoes.— »I eat one, 
some ladies eat one also ; the gentlemen, however, took care 
none should be lost ; some eat four, and one eat six, wtlh^a 
proportionable quantity of bread and butter. — In Ireland, 
toast is never brought in swimming in greasy butter, in the 
iKsgusting manner too common at an English inn — it is 
cut into thin slices, and laid on the table with fresh butter, 
which every one puts on for himself. — On our return to the 
coach we became much more convei^ible than before break<^ 
fast ; good cheer generally puts people into good humour ; 
it not only made us good humoured, but what it seldom doetf, 
it made us learned akol We had muchingenious speculation 
about the name of the house we just had quitted — one lady 
said she heard a man had been murdered in it during the 
Irish warsi, and haunted it for several years afterwards— «k 
might do very welt to breakfast in, but she must confess she 
would not like to sup or to sleep in it. — This fair believer in 
hobgoblins was neither young nor handsome ; and in my 
opinion might have slept in a church-yard without fear of 
molestation, either from man or ghost— *One of the gentler- 
men siud he remembered hearing a story, when he was a 
yomtgster^ of the mistress of the house being a very large 
woman — whh a stately ^ir and majestic walk^ for which 
reason the neighbours allc&Ued her the Man of War. — Ancs* 
ther ingenious personage, conceived it was called so l^ way 
of a joke, because one met with so much good cheer in it. If 



\ 



this be war said the wit, (slapping one of the ladfe^ on tlie 
. knee) may we ncyer have peace.— •! ventured, with greet 
deference to these superior critics, to throw out the idea that 
the sign perhaps was formerly a ship ; but this was rejected 
with contempt, as too ^asy andobvious asolution.^^-Like true 
commentators, they persisted in diving to the bottom for 
what, probably, lay uponthesurface.*— We talked afterwards 
of Ireland, which was unanimously allowed to be of wonder- 
fiA antiquity, and a full grown nation when the surrounding 
ones were scareelyout of their cradle !-**a grave black litde 
vami in the corner, said it was recorded by tradifibn that 
Ireland was peopled a short time after the deluge fay Mk 
grandson or great grandson of Noah,-— He admkted^ how 
ever that this hypothesis did irat rest on the moat unquestikia^ 
able authority, and for his part he questioned : vHbethcv 
they had at that day the knowledge necessary for sailifig on 
a troubled ocean, or a sufficient skill in constructing 'vasstltf 
large enough to venture on it 5— he modestly, therefore, de^ 
manded no higher antiquity for his country than fifte^ 
hundred years befcM-e Christ, when ^ colony of Phoenieiaad 
came over from Spain, and having peo]>Ied Irehmd, spread 
themselves into England and Scotland^ -«I did not choose to 
sajr much in opposition to this, as I knew it would not be 
very patiently borne— *if all nations have affiicted to deduce 
their history from the earliest periods, the dM Irish have 
particularly indulged in tliis vanity — nor can this be rnuek* 
wondered at, by any perscm who reflects seriously on what 
has l6ng been their situaticm — ^^e{M:essed for n^ny age^ 
stung with the reproaches, the contempt, and the ii^uriou9 
slander of their neighbours, they passionately recur to^ the 
monuments of their ancient glory; and speak of theiuAle 
actions of thdr ancestors, in the glowing style of iiui^natioB 
which would ill brook them to be questioned-^-Nor is it to 
be denied, that from the species of honour which hiM^ ka 



soiurce in antiquity, Ireland fairly claims at least an adeqimte 
portion— «The title of Lord of Ireland gave precedtace to 
Henry the iSfth, at the council of Constance, in preference to 
the Ambassador of France — nor is the evidence which the 
Irish adduce in defence of their Phoenician origin, eaaily 
answered, nor does it admit of ready refutation«-**-*There 
are still remaining large pillars c^ rude stones placed ereet^ 
on the top of which thare are fixed others in an inclined and 
horiasont^ position, resembling the altars saised by the 
Phoenicians in honour of their Ood Balus.*-*In several 
paiti of the kingdom there are to be ^een other monumenta, 
and even to tiiis day, certain customs are retained among 
the native Irish, which seem to point out their ancieat 
confieetion with this nation.— -The opinion of their annalists, 
ccmeeming this pomt, is strengthened by Sir Isaac Newton^ 
who infonns'us in his chnmologjr, tha^a nation of Iberians, 
from the borders of the Euiiine and Caspian Sea, settled 
anciently in Spain, that the Phoenicians, who first introduced 
arts and letters into Europe,^ had an early intercourse with 
the Iberian Spaniards, a colony of whcnn, by the name of 
Scots, settled in Ireland in the fourth age of th^ world.—- 
To irehad, Scotland was indebted for its first inhabitants.— » 
Of the laAt^ kingdom, Edward the first, as has been often 
' ' mentioned, destroyed the historical records. — Tliis shame- 
ful aet^ tyranny /Obliged the Scotch Antiquaries to have 
recourse io the seecnds t»f this country, which taught them to 
acknowledge it as dieir parent state.-— At an early period^ 
Ireland, from the Iberian Scots was called Scotia— some 
have asserted that the use of letters was not known in 
Ireland untS the time of St. Patrick.— This opinion is un- 
supported l^ ^ly oonvincing evidence*— The Irish is 
altogether diflferentsirom the R^nan alphabet^ with respect 
to ihe powers, the nuiid>er, and the structure of its lettenu— 
Iteiai&»{br its origin the. Celtfl&y from whom>.iEis n^ajpe. 



^ / 



96 

told by Aristotle, the Greeks borrowed tbeir Alphabet.-^-Hr. 
Raymond asserts, that it is exactly the same with the 
ancient Celtic. — He has given a specimen of the Lord^s 
prayer in both, where even a superficial observer must per- 
ceive a striking similarity. — Sir Willitoi Temple ^ays that 
die Celtic dialect, used by the natives of Ireland, is the moat 
ori^nal and unmixt language that yet remuns in any 
part of Europe.— Nothing can be said with certainty in 
respect to their early writings, as no traces of them re« 
main, except in monumental inscriptions.-— It appears^ 
however, that a few centuries after the christian sera, 
when the ravages of the Goths and Vandals had extin- 
guished, elsewhere^ the means of knowledge, and involv- 
ed the other nations of Europe in the thickest darkness, 
Ireland, like Athens of old, was resorted to by fcM-eigners 
as the only surviving repository of learning.— At that pe- 
riod, seminaries of knowledge were erected in several parts 
of the kingdom.— Learning was encouraged and cultivated, 
more especially by the clergy,' with a zeal almost approach- 
ing to enthusiasm-— the salutary effects of this were expe- 
rienced beyond the limits of their own country — Their 
missionaries passed over to the continent, were they were^ 
received with grateful approbation, and their labouis 
crowned with success-— Henrick of Saint Germaine,* who 
nourished in the reign of Charles the Bald, writmg on 
this subject, gives this flattering testimony, 'f Why," asks 
he, ^^ should I mention Ireland—almost the whole nation, 
despising the dangers of the sea, resort to our coasts, with 
a numeroiis train of philosophers." — We have the authority 
of Bede, that Oswald, the Anglo-Saxon King, apj^ed to 
Ireland, for learned men to teach his people the principles 
of Christianity. — In the seventh century, the learning of the 
Irish was celebrated so highly in Europe, that th,e Emperor, 
Charles th» Gnat, honoured them, very particularly, with 



»7 

)us aUiaa(% and jTriefedfihip ; a ipemorial of whicli was pre- 
-served until lately, ami probably may be to this day, in the 
paintihgs of the late royal palace, at Versailles. — It was 
iftbout tills, period that Ireland attained, through £urope, the 
Itpellation of the I&laiid of Saints, and sometimes the Island 
of Scholars ;—- the latjter she has long lost ; the former she 
still retains, .and probal^ly has as good claims to it as any of 
her neighbours^ though I do not deny but there may be, (as 
is the case in every assemblage of Saints^} many sinnei^. 
among them* 

We changed horses, at Balbriggen, a fishing town about 
eight miles fromDrogheda ; it is a pretty little plac^, and I 
am told has an excellent quay, where large vessels can load 
and unload.T-'The cotton manufactory was carried on here 
to a great extent ; but has now declined so much, that tliey 
have converted some of their principal mills into flour 
pnes. 

' We arrived in Brogheda about two o^clock — the appear* 
ance of the town pleased me as we drove throagh it 5 it was 
market day, and the country*people in general seemed com- 
•fortdbly, though not very finely> dressed. The women, how<* 
«ver, were almost all ugly— -they were sallow> p&le, and thinj 
and at thirty had the look of old agC'—^^Scanty nourishment^ 
hard labour^ and much exposure to the air, are doubtless 
tlie causes of this :-«"-they wore short cloaks of a coarse grej 
cloth, with green or yellow stuff petticoats. The men 
almost universally wore great coats of the same colour with 
the women's cloaks ; they wore them to keep out the heat, 
probably. It could not be for the sake of heat^ for the 
weather was remarkably warm. — I did not see either man or 
woman without shoes and stockings. — ^The distance from 
Publin to Drogheda, is twenty four Irish miles.~The fare 
pn the outside was 6s. Gd. in the inside 8s. 8d. — It carried 
ten inside^ and I believe a still greater number of outside 



. t8 

|>assengers.~The coachman got lOd. from eadi of the fot^ 
mer^ and probably from a number of the latter ; as many 
of them had in all respects the aj^earanoe of gentlemen. 
-—The people of Ireland have in this respect less vanity^ ix 
more economy^ than the pec^le of England. It is much 
more common to see gentlemen on the outside ; and th^ 
mis at breakfiist and dinner with the other passengen^ 
without any risk of being objected to. — ^l%e coachman was 
decently clad, civil, and attentive } he had none of the im- 
pudence of manner, so common among his brethren in Eng*- 
land, who now as generally assume the air of gentlemen, as the 
gentlemen do the air and look of coachmen.^— The coacfa, 
though not an elegant, was a comfortable vehicle ; fully 
equal to any coach carrying the same number of passengers 
in Engiand.*-^I could only wish it had been a little less mu* 
sical — there was a good deal of loose iron work about it, 
which kept a jingling kind of sound, like Dr. Slop's instru«- 
ments about the neck of Obadiah.-— I am as fond of con* 
versing, ,as he was of whistling, and would have given 
something to a smith to have silenced this troublesome, 
music- I had an introduction to a shop-keeper in the 
town, on whom I called immediately after quitting the 
coach.*— I was received by him and his wife with, the utmost 
civility. — ^They insisted on my living with them, and even 

taking a bed at their house. Some poet has remarked that 

he always found, ^^ his warmest welcome in an Inn y* this 
Is rather extraordinary, as poets, in general, do not possess 
much of what gives men welcome there****Had he travelled 
to Ireland, however, he would often, I am sure, have aqpe-^ 
rienced the contrary.—^ devoted a part of this day to 
asking questions of my host, whom I found an amiable and 
intelligent young man. — I suspect, however, his answers^ 
on some points, are to be taken,^^ cum grano salis."*— He 19 
a protestant, and a very zealous one; of course, not partial 



9$ 

to the Catholics; to tvh<M ckims^ of vAm fs ^rmed eman-* 
cipation, he is a bitter enemy. — He has the «aine idea of the 
superiority of Protestaiiti over Ciitholics^ that an English- 
man lias of his over a FVenchman >-- he piously believes 
that one Protestant is a match for two Catholics; mid the 
consequence of this persuaston^ which is common to the 
Protestants of Ireland^ perhaps is^ that two are e^ual to 

Aree. Drogheda is situated on the rivesf Boyne, wiocli 

carries vessels, of 150 tons, as high as the bridge of fhef 
town ; inclosing within its old and ruinous waHs, tlia 
uneven shelving banks of the river on both sides.-— The two 
principal streets are latge and handsome ; 1>ut ihuch of the 
ground within the walls is unoccupied by biiildbigs ; and the 
mud-walled cabins outside of these, give no very fevouraMe 
impression in the approach ; though the spire of one of 
the churches is a conspicuous and beautiful ol^ect.— * 
Brc^eda contains aboutCjKvelve thousand inhabitants, and 
is a place of considerable trade, which must increase with 
the advancement of the inland navigation — It was formerly 
called Tre-dagh, and is a place of great antiquity. — ^There 
are many or<Knaiices in Prynne, in the reign of Edward the 
Third, by which it af^ears that it was even 4ien of some 
note.— It is r^narkable for the greait battle fought near i^ 
in the year J 689, between the English and Ctrtholic annies. 
It stood two sieges prior to this period, ~whieli reduded 
the walls to the ruined and shattered concfition in :which they 
now fre. — ^The first of these sieges lasted nearly three 
months ; though the town" was neither strong in itself, nor 
vmll supplied with provisions.— It was at the commencement 
of the great rebdiion, in &e year 1641, and as it WMS the 
only barrier to Dublin an the northern frontier, it was placed 
under tiie commafad of Sir Henry Tichboume, an active 
and gdlant officer, who was ordered to use every possible 
means for its presetvati®n»-»-The Irish, who thou^ very 

■ 2 






numerous^ wert, fiom their dluMioiiy iioable ta stMoami 
tlie town by a rc^kur eficampment, could not^ witk tkeic 
utmost vigilance, prevent some supfrfies irom getting into 
it. — These being soon consumed, tlie dtiiEens lyod ^iniioa 
were reduced to great <tistress*-Sir Pbelim O'Neal^ who 
eommandedtbe Irish^ made severalaltacks> batwasrepnbed* 
The garrisenf inspired by the examfde of their ^vemcnry wa^. 
deCMviined to endure every extremity, rather than surrender a 
place of so nmch importteoe. — One of these -attacka wms 
BMide in the night : — some of the rebels had penetratedinto 
tbe. town, which was only preserved by an accidental eiiVf 
euindtance, which is thus related by Sir Henry Ticbbouraey 
in t letter to. his wife, ^' God's workings are wotiderfilly ^id 
oftentimes^ esqf^cially in matters of war, produces greateffe^^ 
out of small, aiid contemptible means :— ^this niglit^ my msm 
following me hastily oyt of my lodgings with-my.borse^. the 
horse being unruly a^tlie best, suddenly brcAelootey aDd[Dia^ 
^ch a noise in running and galk^ping. madly, ufion the 
stones, in the dark, that it put the rebeb to a stand, be- 
lieving we were better {prepared to meet.tbem than in trutk 
we were ; and thereby affoitied us isomediing the greater 
leisure to entertain them, as by God*s blessing we did/'-—. 
The town, however, must at lengthhave surrendered, had not' 
the Earl of Orinond arrived at jthe head of ,three thous^iil 
foot, and five hundred horse.* *-Qn the jue ws of which Q'Neale . 
instantly xaisied the siege and retired into the norths — 
iU)out ten years afterwards Drogheda was besieged a s9C<mi 
time, whcii.it experienced one. of the moat dreadful ca-*-: 
lamities which ever befel any city : — the cause of royalisoi, 
which.was completely subdued In England, was kept aliye in 
some degree in Ireland, by the esLertions of i^rd Or* 
mond-*-^he bad formed a numerous, army, composed of ca* 
thtdics and protestants-**«united together, not so miuch by. 
their zeal for the king, as their d^ead of lhfi comafiQii 



/ 



I 






CM emyibe iPuritans.-— An army composed of such disordant 
and heterogenous particles, had little principle of attraetiony 
luM^much of repulsion — diffficultly combined and eal^y 
sepurated, it could afford but feeble resistance against the 
patiijaifi^[itary troops^ whose courage was heightened by 
fttnalfdBm^H and directed by df^ci^ine. — On the 15th ^ 
« August, 1649,' fifteen thousand men, with a fonntdabte 
train of artilfery, andtdl «lher necessaries of war, landed in 
Dablin, sent b^pail^ament for tiie chastisement of Finish 
cebris, and the relief of liietr godly brethren.^-4]lromwett 
was &e leader of this fonnidaUe fcnrce-^-^he contrited, by 
his lAtr^es, to foe cheien LordLieutenant, by an waaaimous 
vote of parliament>-<-Hairlng appmnted a governor crfDnblin, 
And adjusted suclv matters as required his immediate atten-* 
tfam, he pat his army in motion,. and laid aiege to Drog<^ 
lieda.— Ormond, bdng aware of this, had taken care to 
fepair- the finrtifoatioiis of that city, to furnish it with 
necessaries', and a garrison of two thousand foot, and three 
hundred horse, which he placed under the command erf 
.^r Arthur Aston,' mi officer of distinguished r^utation.-- «- 
He had Kkemse 8trerkg>d)ened his little remaining armf^ 
with which he advanced to the neighbourhood, to be ready, 
if an opportunity oiered, to gire assistance to the town.-— 
But these precaution^ were useless^— Croqswetl led hia 
artillery to the walls, in wbic^ he in two days made a sufBv 
eient breach. — The assault was given, and his men twice 
Impulsed ; — in the third attempt, led by Cromwell hii^self, 
tiie town was gained :-— quarter had been promised to all 
w4io would lay down their arms : notwithstanding, byoipder 
of their most inbumian general, the c<mquerors put the 
garrison 4o the sword, without regard to sex, age, or eon**: 
dition. — The governor; and all his gallant officers, were 
massacred without inercv**-*mdthers were butchered whh, 
the infants at their breasts^ and the infants torn from^thdr 



»JS^ ^ -^ 



102 

i^ipptes tnddiMhedcii tbe floQr,»^A nuaaher of €ccto k 8 tig% 
^ the Boniulv pcvsittMoiS) were feimd withm tbe wdk.~<» 
OpomweU mteally oedoved kit leMiew to plunge thcAr 
wcapoM iDta these helpless wielckes.-*— Fnr five dqrs tibie 
hideous execuliosi wee eeHtkined, with evmj tkcxamlamm 
ef heri0P*-*tUrt3r penevs only remawed iHiefaiu|^^a«d» hy 
Stn enemy ghittisd by earn^^e ; end these weie tfansporled 
to the blaod of BeiMbes.^'^-OnMondy in oik el his letlef% 
em die siibjiDet of this hevrid sceaei says^ '^^ the crucllM^ 
eoimnttted by QN«iwciB» on tlua occseio% wmM make 
as many several f^ctnsee of inhumanity, as are ta he fommd 
ioLthehoritef mattyni^ ox m Ae lehtioa of the asaeeacfc 
of Aaiiibyna."«-*«The effect prednced on the omids of tlie 
faiah eathdieay' by ithis infernal tiansaetftoi^ was ia d e B h i e *- 
the geneml who commanded k waa aa Englishaiaa ; the 
tfoops who peipetiated it, weae peotestants andfingUsIuaea 
Iftewise : to Englishmattv therefi»)e, they associated the idea 
of atl that was hocrid, bnital, and . heihaioua ;— ~tiitty can* 
sideredf them no longer as enemies to contend with, but aa 
fiends^ and exeealioners, whose delight was in torturing, 
andiivhom it was their duty, therefore, to tertuve in t etani.' — 
The blood^stainedEogGshman, who shut his ears to merey, 
who stabbed the suppSant who kneeled before him, and 
plunged his weapon into subdued, and und^nded bosoms, 
was, for upwards of a century, the [never-ending theme of 
wonder and conversation among the lower Iri^hr^-tfaeir 
tmagisttitinna were overpowered and disisrdei^ by the 
lecoHedioa of his tortures and butchery ; and ^veiy t4e of 
honxMT was ^eagerly received, and every s^ggestioll of 
mdaneholy believed implicitly. The superstition natural 
to an illiterate people, contributed to heighten, and 
continue the impiession ; and the most marvelous stories 
were propagated and received as incontestible.*i»Y 
Lakes and rinera. of blood, viaioos of s^its. in flowing 
^bes, and ghosts rising from rivers, and shrieking 



*■'- 



1«6 

HSfniMii wore a«id to be seen «Bd beard, b j every lonely 
tiifdler.«— Tbe Irkh and English have nuitaaUy mueh to 
fMgite eadi odief<-***each party cmidemns ibc conduct of 
the oilier, and a dkpaflsionaite man will find enough to 
fiftdHttn HI ^ conduct of both,— •^EngUsbmen of the 
preMrt dajfy wh^ pronounoe the Iriah craei^ badbaroosy and 
dtalogndy will do well to reoc^ectp what the conduct of tli^ 
Mm aaeeatei^haa been^— in the contemplation of their ex* 
teiae% they ma^ leiorn indulgence for the excesses of 
Mkecs,«-> Often has Ae earth groaned with the wickedness 
and fcUy of her sons; but I know of no&ing, in modern 
fimes^ e<|iial to die sacking of Dccgheda, or in ancient 
Jdstofy superior to it, except, perhaps, the destruction of 
JcfUMdem by Tilus ;**«-nor did tlie sufferings of the Jews 
exceed tlMe oi the ill*iated inhabitants ot Drogbeda, ex* 
nqpt Iqr beingof knger duration*-— Sorry am I to have it to 
aa^, Aat such a panallel is to be found in Ireland, and that 
dieaetotsin it were^— Ek^lishmsn* 



CHAP. XI. 



Droghepa. 



X AB06£ on Sunday at six o'clock ', it was a beautiful 
morning, mnd the sun shone in cloudless hrightness> I 
wandered into a delicious meadow behind the house; which, 
from its silence and solitude, might have been a hundred 
miles from the habitations of men. It was bordered by a 
row of lofty trees ; the violet and daisy enamelled the sur* 
face, and mingled their light tints with the rich verdure of 
Ae grass : a little brook gurgled through one extremity of 
it^ and I seated myself by its side. It was the place a poet 



n. ^^^ - » ■ • -r 



10* 

would have chosen for ilie iisitofhis nfuse; aiid'dMMe^ 
not a poet, it inspired me with the wish of doming o«ie« 
I had full in View the rained towers of Droghcdft ; • its falteil 
porches, its £lapidated, and moss-grown wails. I invi^ceii 
the assistance, therefore, of the Dryades atid HamaAryadea 
of the grove, and commenced iny ode. Lik« oth^ hoHdajr 
friends, however, they came but slowly, and>l hudgot Inrt 
four lines forward, when a more powerful divinit) came, tm* 
invited, and threw a whole arm fuM oiilpdppi<M'over«ii^ 
eye-lids. Whether the reader is a gainer, -or loser^-by thta 
interruption, it does not become nie to de<^; but it is 
hot impossible that my sleep has saved hiM froM oiie.-»*-I 
was awoke by my friend hallooing to me to cmtte. to tteak^^ 
fast. I told him I meant ,to write an ode on the desMic-* 
tion of Drogheda, and as he was the only inhabitMit I tvfs. 
acquainted with, I would dedicate it to him.— 'if k was ki 
favour of King William, and the Protestants, be said, he 
would be glad to listen to it ; but if it was- on the other side^ 
as, from the sentiments I delivered the night before, he 
feared it might possibly be, he begged to be excused having^ 
Ills name in it; as it would do him no credit ^mong his re- 
lations, who hated the Papists, and cared no more about the 
siege of Drogheda, than the destruction of Troy. — > 
Though no admirer of some of the doctrinal points rf the 
Romish church I like its external form of worship ; I have 
been several times at the celebration of high mass, whidi 1 
look upon as a lofty and magnificent spectacle, which ele- 
vates the soul, in some degree, to the Deity it addreisi^es.— ri 
have been equally struck with the less glaring pomp, Ae 
chastened dignity, tlie plaintive melody, and exquisite fasaixio^ 
ny, bf their Evening service.-r-It' is iiifipo&sible^ I think, £of 
any person of sensibility to be present at vespers, iidtho^it 
feeling his affections kindled, and his heart hiimani2cd.»*-f 
I do npj: wonder that Catholics, whose woi*ship is endeared ta 






106 

iillfm, not ^ly by its beauty, but by habit imi assdoiattoix 
with the early days io which it was first heard, I'enaain so 
UQi^terably attached to their reUgion ; and turn with so 
much disgust from our cold and less ornamented ones.— <* 
It would not be. BVJich unUke what we sometimes experience 
in dreams^ wl^a we think to clasp swelling and voluptuous 
bemityj and find a hideous skeleton^ a mass of dry and with* 
ared bones> in our arms. — As Iteogheda is a great Catholic 
]t#wny I expected to hear mass in perfection : I asked 

Mr. —"■ to go along with me to some place of worship 

of that persuasion. — He started as if a culverin had been 
let off at his ear— *He is a p]:q>er-conducted man, fond of his 
wife and children ; yet, had I asked him to go to a house of 
ill fame in church time, it could not have astonished him 
moi3e. He would do much to gratify me, (he said) but to be 
seen in a mass-house was a species of degradation no pro^ 
te£^ant should be guilty of.— The protectants of Droghedi^ 
are mostly the descendants of Oliver Cromweirs soldiers^ 
aud retain much of the zeal, though I hope they do not the 
other b^ qualities of Oliver Iwnself.— »My next proposal* 
being a truly protestant one, was readily acceded to ; it was 
to visit, the obelisk, erected on the river Boyne, in comme- 
moration of king William, and the glorious victory be ob- 
tained there.--— I bad no reason to regret not going to mass ;. 
the day was charming, the country beautiful, and the com- 
pany, which consisted of niy host and his two brothers, high- 
ly agreeable.^ — They seemed all to have that necessary 
qualification for a companion, as well as a wife-— perfect 
gCKwl humour .-r-^They had likewise in no mean degree the 
qualification necessary for guides, an acquaintance with the 
place w^ were going to visit ;r- they know every, dell and 
yalley, every height and hollow, of tliis ever^ memorable 
field ; Mfhieh is the classic ground of Ireland, and as high in 
Imputation as the plains of Plmrsalia.-— They pointed out to 



106 



me the ground which was occupied by each aimy^ iSd Ite* 
•cribed the whole progress of ^battle with a minuteiMM 
tiuit would have astonished Duke Sehonberg hinisctf ; iftc^ 
led me to the spot where king WilUam was wounded A^ 
tvening before the battle; mid shewed mt the distant hm^ 
firom which the wrstched Jmnes, in alternate hope and tt&s, 
beheld the tide of war, alternately advance and #eei»A^ 
and from which, with a soul subdued to his forluiiesi he IKd 
the moment he saw the battle declare i^tnst hhn.^ — i ana 
ifraid, however, my friends are partial Mstorians*-*not only 
was the river deepened, but littfe hilb were swelled to 
mighty mountains, and superficial bogs to immense momss* 
e^, all to do the more honour to the great protestant hero, 
Who has so long been the idol of every loyal Irishman.;-*^ 
Widi a license more a*kin to poetry than history, ^ey 
diminished his urmy to twenty thousand men ; while tiiey 
Mgmented that of James to sixty thousand, exactly double 
Adrrealnumber.**^It must be admitted, however, in excuse 
^ their partiality, thaft the conduct of James, that day, wns 
as contemptible and dast»rdly, as that of his rival 
magnanimous and deserving the crown he contended for.— ^ 
When wounded, he lost neither his fcnrtitude nor presence of 
mind^— every bullet, coolly remarked he, t6 those that 
surrounded him, has its billet. — ^William, it is well known^ 
was a predestinarian ; a doctrine, whether true or fdse, as 
e<mifortable to the soldier, as the Catholic belief of the 
ai>80ltttioR. ,of sins is to the dying sinnen—^Jam^s stood trem* 
hfing and dismayed ; a timid spectator of the varied and 
animatedscene which extended beneath him. — ^^Oh, spare my 
English subjects! "exclaimed he once or twice, as divisions of 
his rival's army were repulsed, and driven back on the river.— «• 
James possessed no real sensibility ; the num who could 
admit his nephew^ the son ct his deceased brother, into his 
j[Mresence, when under sentence of death ; could hear his 



r^ 



^ .^ ■ -- 



107 

fmsi^mte af^pei^ tot itterey ; eoM see hkm proityate cfn 
tbe (;artbf aod feel the eager giai^ of bis trembUng handt 
4ibai^t \m ]aiee8-«f«the man who oould hear, and see all thie 
tiaqiovedi^ must, have been devoid of all hiuaaaky.^— Mi$for« 
tmak^ however, had now overtaken himy and softened hit 
stem aad gloomy soul $ he thouif^t he iek for his English 
sid>jects, but he only fdt for himself.— *The whole of has 
«andiict| indeed, in Ireland, was a series of blunders, and 
fii^ked by that sort of infatuation said to characterize jndi« 
viduaki^ and nati<»iS5 devoted to destruction >— he retreated 
u4)en he should hav^ advanced ; and he stood still when he 
shonld have retreated* He loitered in Ireland with a large 
aimy un^aployed^ when he should have i^peared in Eng- 
land at the head ol it ; and he persisted (in <^qpositi(m to the 
adv^ of his wisest officers,) to stand the ^hock of William's 
icpihup troqps, with his raw and undisciplined one8«--^*Ia 
the eouncil of war held the evening before the battle, Ha« 
ttlitt^n recommended that eight regiments should be seal 
immediately to secure the important pass of Slane*-— James 

Iprofosed to employ i^y dragoons in this service : the asto^ 
nished general bowed and was sijent. — ^^ Had your Majeatj^ 
tspn kingdoms^" e:Kcbimed St. Ruth, ^' you would loose them 
slV* — ^Early on the mornmg of tb^ first of July^ King 
William advanced to the banks of the Boyne.-*— The Irish 
army was encamped on the opposite side ; to their right lay 

. Drogheda, which Jai^es occupied by a garrison : on their 
left a difficull morass, which communicated by^a narrow 
pass with the bridge of Slaiiie, that lay three miles highei^ 
up the river. The English advanced in three divisic}ns ; tha^ 
on the right "was commanded by Count Schomberg, the 
centre by Duke Schomberg, and the left by King William } 
the river had been carefully examined, and in the placea 
pointed out, was to be crossed separately, by each of theses 
divisions.-^-Count Schomberg* with the right wing^ set off 



fapidly ap the river, James saw this movement ftoto tfce 
iieights of Donore^ and sent off large detachments to 1di€ 
<^posite banks of the river. — Count Schomberg pressed on 
with so much expedition^ that before they could get fbrwatti 
to intercept him, he readied the ford which he intended to 
fkass, crossed it, and led his men down the river widi intre*^ 
pidi^/ Encouraged by this- success, the part of the centum 
composed of the Dutch Guards, and Brandenburgh^ns^ tfie 
^former leading the van, advanced to the Boyne, which they 
passed with considerable 'difiiculty, dislodged the enemy, 
and made good their ground on the opposite bank. Here 
they formed, and advanced forwards, supported by a body of 
English, and by the French Hngonots, and the Danes, who 
by this time had passed the river. Upon their approachi 
General Hamilton, who, with the horse and a- part of the 
Irish infantry, had bfeen posted on the rising gikmnds^ 
attacked them with impetuosity. — UnaUe to withstand 
Ae shock, they broke and retreated in confusic^n. Here 
Caillemot,'' the leader of the Hugonots, received a 
mortal wound. As his soldiers were carrying hi 
bleeding off tibe field of battle, he exerted his utmost 
strength, and exclaimed,'* A la gloire, mes enfansf 
a la gloire P' The rapidity of the Irish horse, the 
flight of the Danes, and the disorder of the French, spread 
a general alarm ; and the want of cavalry struck the minds, 
even of the peasants, who were but spectators of the batde, 
so forcibly, that a general cry of" Horse ! horste !*' was sud-* 
dienly raised 5 was mistaken for an order to " Halt !" sur- 
prised and confounded the centre, was conveyed to the right 
Wing, and for a while retarded the pursuit,— ^In this mo- 
ment of disorder, Duke Schomberg rushed through the 
river, artd placing himself at the head of the Hugonot forces^ 
pointed to some French regiments in their front, and cried, 
'* Aliens, messieurs 5 voila vos persecuteurs.** — ^These were 



t' >.>r<k» m-„ '^ 



I9d 

lus Wt words^— The Iri^ horse^ wha had broken the Fretijctt 
pmtestantsy wheeled throu^ Old Bridge^ in order to join 
&eir imin body, but were here cut down by the Dutch 
andEuniskilleners. — About sixteen of their squadron eseapedy* 
and returning furiously from the slaughter of theii; oompia** 
nipus^ were mistaken by the Hugonots for some of their 
«wu friends^ and suffered to pass.— They wounded Schom^ 
be^ in the head, and w^^re hurrying him forward, when 

his own men fired and kiUed him. William had now^ 

crossed the, river^ at the head of the Dutch, Danish, and. 
£ngHsh cavalry, through a dangerous and difficult pass^, 
where his horse, floundering in the mud, obliged him tc^ 
dismount, ^nd accept, the assistance of his attendants.*-* 
Thelrishretreated towards Donore, where James stoodduring 
^ engagement ; surrounded by his guards,— and here^* 
drawing up in good order, th^ faced about, and charged 
niith such success that the English cavalry, though led on 
by their king, was forced from their ground — William, with' 
some peevish exclamations at the want of courage of the- 
llPnglish, rode up to a large body of Irish Protestants, well' 
known, both then and since by the name of Enniskilleners, • 
and asked, ^^ What they would do for him." — Their officer 
informed them who he was — they advanced with him, and^ 
Kceived the enemy's fire. — The battle was now maintained 
on each side with equal ardour, and with variety of fortune. 
The king who, mingled in the hottest part of the engage** 
meht, was constantly exposed to danger. — One of the En- 
niskillen dragoons mistaking him for an enemy, presented 
a pistol to his head. — ^William calmly put it by, " What," 
said he, *• do you not know your friends ?*' The presence 
of such a prince gave double vigour to his soldiers. The. 
firish infai^ry were finally repulsed. Hamilton made one 
desperate effort to turn thefortune pf the day, at the head of 
hi^ horse. The^ sbpck wasi furiou$», but neither orderly 



110 

nor stead]r# they were routed^ and their general eonveyeJ 
a prisoner to William. The king asked him whether the 
ferish wottld fight more. ^ Upon my honoar^'* said Ha-^ 
mitlon, ^ Ibelieve they wifl ; for they have yet a good hodf 
of horse.'^—— William surveyed this man, who he thought 
had betrayed him on some former transactions, with con- 
tempt I and in a sullen tone exclaimed, ^^ Honour V* yoor 
* honour !**— The right wing of King William's army, 
had by this time pursued the enemy close to Duleek^--* 
James, who still continued at Donore, commenced his re- 
treat immediately ;— he marched to Duleek, «t the head of 
Sarsfield's regiment ; his army fcllowed, and poured ihmagli 
Ae pass. — When they reached the open ground, diey drew 
lip, and canonaded their pursuers. — Their officers ordet«d 
all things for a retreat, which they made in such order, aiK 
was commended by their enemies — ^Their loss in tfiis en* 
gagement was computed at fifteen hundred; tiiatof King* 
William's army did not much exceed one third of iim 
number.— *— -By this -memorable and decisive battle, die 
hopes of James to ascend the throne of these kingdomA^ 
were finally crushed; — he fled to Dublin, and a few days 
afterwards to France, followed by the scorn and c ontem pt 
even of his partisans. — '* Exchange kings,'^said iSrTeagoe 
CyRegan, after he was taken prisoner, *' and we wilt fight die* 
battle over again.'' — ^The Irish Catholics might now be sud 
to be completely subdued-— and happy would it have been 
for these kingdoms^ had the victory, gained by magnanimity^ 
been used with moderation.— But moderation is seldom the* 
virtue of any government. — A series of barbarous andpre-* 
scriptive laws were issued, from which the eye of humanity 
turns in horror and disgust. — ^The Irish Catholic, who 
was no rebel, who had contended for his natural king, aad^ 
obeyed the orders of his own parliament, was stigmatized 
as the most vile, the most obstinate^ and irreelaimaUe of 



Ill 

beings.-— He was exdaded from the pale dT society, be wa^ 
scarcely permitted to reside in a town; he was debarre4 
the ^KKcrcise of his religicHi, he was trampelled on, abusedj 
and j(ftitTaged— *he was chainedi not as an enemy, that waa 
conquered, but a wild beast it was daijtgerous to let loose*-^ 
Many of the laws^ passed at this period, bear a strong resem« 
blance to the edicts of a Nero, or C»sar Borgies.*— It must^ 
however, be adknitted, in extenuation of government, thali 
had it even been disposed to moderation. It is doul^ul 
whether the prejudices of Protestants would hftve per*, 
mitted it.— -They held peppery a horrible idolatry, wbosA 
tcmchwas contamination, and which, like the Israelites of 
old, it was their duty to root out*— I have little do^bt thi^ 
many of them would have done it, precisely in the same 
manner, by the extirpation of the wretched inhabitants.— <• 

_ • * 

The (Kmsequeoces (rf thb shocking state of things havf 
been, long, and are 5till fek in Ireland. The wholesom# 
tree of society has been poisoned at its root ; and itf 
bran<^es, like those of the baneful upas, have scattered pest 

' l|ilence imd deadi. — The warm and overfbwing affections' 
of the Irish Catholic have become stagnate ; the milk of 
human kindness is cufdled in bis breast ; his spirits ar^ 
-depressed, his energies subdued, and disappointment, and' 

. oppressioB^ have rendered him a listless idler, or a fell mi- 
santhrope. — Nor are the effects of it less perceptible in th^ 
Protestant. — living, as he supposed, in the midst of his 
enemies, he viewed his neighboui^i, and servants, with 
distrust* Imbuing that he was hated, he soon deserved to 
be so; and fear, which made Nero and Domitian cruel, too 
often taught the Protestant to be a tyrant, and to treat the 
Catholic as a slave.*— He arrogated to himself all title, 
advancement, and even advantage, as an exclusive right; and 
in the meanest situation, regarded the Catholic,/^ the most 
distinguished by wealth or talent,*' as a far inferior beinjpto 



tii 

Mms<elf>-f o this diatiftsed ftbd vidatod state^ and not to tr* 
hefetd disposition, I would attribute the haughtiness and 
arrogance^ the ioapatiencie of controul, the restlessness 
and turbulence^ ctf which tile Irbh, when abroad^ ate so 
Qjfiteto^ abd^ perhaps, so justly accused. — Grod be near me, a» 
I speak the firm belief of my heart, that* Ireland lias j&uf^ 
fered more misery since the reformation, than ever befei 
any nation) in the sanAe space of time.— «I have been moie 
circumstantial in relating the battle of the Boyne,. because 
the fate not only <^f Ireland^ but of England^ and the family 
seated at present on the Throne^ depended on it.<— Front 
the then crititai situation of aflairs, there h every reaaonr 
to suppose, that had James been victorious^ lie would have 
been reinstated oil the throne, — Irritated by opposition, tri-' 
umphant overall his enemies, and free from every restraint^ 
nothing else could have been expected, but that he would have 
trampled upon the rights of the people^ and adcqpted the 
most arbititiVy didsighs^ as the ruling priaciples of his go^ 
iremment. — It is likewise deserving of attention, from the 
number of troops engaged on each side } whie}> was great^ 
than in any battle fought in these kingdoms, since the time 
of the Romans. — ^Thearmy of William consisted of thirty-* 
ftis^thousand men ; that of James, only of thirty-three 
thousand.^*— I have taken parns to ascertain this feet, to 
correct t^e prevalent opinion, that the army of William 
wasthie least numerous. — It was^not only the most numerous^ 
but consisted for the niostpart of veteran troops, who had 
followed him from the co&tinent. — ^Tlie Irish were raw 
levies, hastily raised, and little accustomed to the use of fire- 
arms. Tliat they did not conquer, therefore, is not half so 
Ivonderful, as that they fought the time they did«~Yet his- 
torians, on the evidence ot this battle, have gravely assert- 
ed, that the Iiish fight badly in their own countrj'^ j 
and that there is a natural inferiority iin them to tlie 



us 

English— *If either of these propoi^itioDs be true, the proof 
i){ them must be sought elsewhere,-^-*-The Irish did not 
fight badly; they fought well; and they fought long; nor did 
they fight against the English. — King William's army was 
no more an English, than it was a Turkish one.-*-They 
formed but an inconsiderable part of it ; nor did William^ 

r 

** who had but a mean opinion of their military prowess^" 
allow any of his divisions to be led by an Englishman* — -It 
consisted of a motley group of Dutch, Danes, and Branden-' 
burgers — of French Hugonots, and Irish Protestants ; to 
the gallantry of the latter, after the English cavalry, had 
retired discomfited, is in a great measure to' be attributed 
Ae success of the day. 

In order, to see some prospect, my friends wished ta 
point out to me it was necessary to cross the river, which 
we did exactly at the same ford the Dutch guards did > and 
exactly in the . same manner. — I dont mean exposed tQ a 
heavy discharge of grape and round shot, but on horseback ; 
a number of horses were grazing about ; each of us mount* 
^d one, and having rode over, turned our steeds loose and 
allowed them either to stray on the more verdant meads 
of the Eastern bank, or return to their ancient habitatiops.— 
A little higher up we saw some people crossing over in a 
particular kind of bo a called Corragh; it is made of wicker 
woiic, and does not seem larger than ^ basket ; some sort of a 
hide was drawn over it, which renders it impervious to the 
water : it holds one person, who directs it with a paddle, in 
the management of which he must preserve the most per- 
fect steadiness, as the slightest movement on his seat would 
overturn the nut-shellthat carries him.™We passed the seat 
of a Mr. Cottington, whose eldest son was unfortunately 
drowned a few years ago in crossing the Boyne, in the 
manner just mentioned. — His grounds are highly improved 
and beauiifully planted— -he has dug up an immense numbed 

I 



114 



6f balls that had lodged there, on the erer memorable day I 
have related— his house was attacked and nearly carried by 
the rebels in 1798- — Had it been completely so, these balk, 
carefully preserved as trophies of the triumph of protestaxitBi 
might have been hurled back in vengeance against them ; 
and, after the lapse of more than a century, have visited on 
them a portion of those ills they formerly inflicted on othei^. 
-—We returned to town by a delightful road ; on the right 
was the hill of Donore, clad in summer's fairest garb^ and 
decked with a rich tuft of trees;— the Boyne, full to over- 
flowing its green-margined banks, was on our left ; and in 
our front, on a gentle eminence, was the town of Drogbeda, 
with her lofty spires raising their heads above the gn^e 
that surrounded them. Short-sighted as I am, the s^ht gave 
me pleasure ; perhaps, so strangely are weldrmed, the more 
pleasure for being short-sighted-4t hid a part, while it allowed 
the imagination to fill up the rest to its mind ; to raise the 
little, to c<Hiceal the mean, to heighten the mountain, to de^- 
en the vale ; to give more verdure to the fields, mare 
brightness to the sky, and more radianceto the sun. — ^Alas ! to 
practise the deception which man practises on himself, as 
he views a&r off the lofty mountain of life ; which, sanguiiie 
in youth, and cheated by hope, he Clothes widi verdmre, 
shadows with myrtles, and strews with roses ; soon to experi- 
ence the contrary, when in riper years he has tried it, and 
found it, as it is — bleak, dreary, and comfortless ; howling 
with tempests, brc^en with precipices, and planted 4?itfa 
thorns. 

We arrived about four o'clock in town, after a walk of 
somewhat more than eight Irish miles, a little fatigued with 
our journey, and perfectly ready to do justice to the hosj^ta- 
ble meal the younger brother of my friend had invited us to. 
— Beside our walking pfiCrty, two other gentlemaix wttre 
asked. — I dont pretend to say there was mvLch wit among 



115 

us J but I am sjare there was a great deal of laughter, which 
is, perhaps, a much safer companion : — our dinner was good, 
and the wine and punch still better. — The company swal- 
lowed them in large potations, which may in some degree 
account for the laughter. — Whether firpm the force of sym- 
pathy or whiskey, I became infected also, and laughed as 
vehemently as the loudest. — Though a stranger, I was no 
restraint on them ; I was introduced as an author, a being I 
fancy the most of them were in company with for the first 
time : — but their laughs were neither less frequent, nor less 
noisy on that account — happy in distant obscurity, they 
were ignorant or i'ndiiFerent, that a snake was in the grass j 
that a spy was in the house, like another James Boswell, pen 
in hand, and ink-horn at breast ; ready to take dot^n each 
. unguarded sally, or inaccurate expression. — Our party con- 
sisted of seven — assuredly it was not the feast of the sevenf 
wise men — none of our sayings^ I fear, will be ever recorded 
|n a book of wisdom ; yet I do solemnly declare, of all that 
was spoken, and much was spoken, ^^ for we were all more 
speakers than listeners,'' I did not hear a single sentence 
that could be construed into a bull. — My readers will no 
doubt be as much astonished as I was, to have an Irish 
drunken party, without either a bull or a quarrel in it.— Th^ 
truth is, of what passed in the latter part of the evening, I 
have very indistinct recollection. — We had swaljQwed sq 
many bumpers to great men, beginning with the great man, 
the scene of whose exploits we just had visited : — this is 
always a bumper toast, and drank sitting, standing, or kneel- 
ing, according to the zeal of the company. — It is rather an 
awkward one, however, to kneel at, as it is almost as long as a 
fashionable sermoil ; a part df it, if I recollect right, is as fol-^ 
lows. — " The glorious and immortal memoiy of the good 
king William, who saved us from popery and slavery, bra^s 
gioney^ and wooden shoes/' — If any soberperson takes offence 

I 2 



116 

at my getting tipsy, I havfe only to say in my own excuse, 1 
was not so cold-blooded a protestant as to view the waters of 
the Boyne without emotion ; and the glorious and immortal 
ihemory has been an excuse for drunkenness upwards of a 
century. ^ 



CHAR XII. 



Droghbba.' 



I AWOKE this morning with a head-ache and sick stomach; 
I took a walk along the Dublin road to dissipate it; returning, 
I was overtaken by a middle-aged woman of decent appear-* 
ance.— She accosted me first, asking how many miles it vm 
to Drogheda. I told her something more than one, and asked 
her if she had travelled far that morning. *^ Ay, and all night 
too (said she;) many a weary mile, and many a sorrowful one 
too ; and God he knows I had enough of that before.'* — ^ My 
good woman (I said) we have all enough of that ; sonow 
wears every garb, and is as often found under a silk pelisse, 
as this grey cloak of your's ; and when death comes, it is a 
tad thing to quit that fine Castle yonder ; (pointing to a 
large house that was in sight) but it is nothing to leave yotir 
clay-built cabin — be that your consolation^' " Ah, Sir!" said 
she, *^ gentlefolks have many blessings ; so many people to 
Care for them, and to watch over them, and to love them ; 
but I have nobody to care for me now, nobody in all the 
wide world to trouble their heads about me. Ogh hone, ogfa 
hone, (wringing her hands, and rocking her body backwards 
and forwards, and from one side, to another,) Jemmy, darling*, 
in sorrow I bore you, many a bitter taunt, and many a 



117 

heavy blow, I suflFered for you ; ay, man, many a heavy blow 
and broken heart; you might have let me alone surely." — 1 
had no difficulty in obtaining her story from her, — her 
heart was full, and no niggard of its tale^-overflowing with 
its woes, it found relief in the voice that soothed, in the ear 
that listened to them* 

'' The grief that does not speak, 
" Whispers the o'er-fraught heart, iand bids it break." 

I regret I cannot tell it in her own words,— -yet they 
would be nothing '.without the tones and action which ac- 
companied them. Whenever, however, I recollect her 
expressions, I will make use of them — Early in life, she 
had been courted by a young man of her own age,— she 
was fond of him, and he pretended to be fond of her; nor 
had she any reason to doubt it, she said — " for I had 
another guess face then, than now, that crying has brought 
wrinkles into it ; and when I had on my stuff gown and 
calamanco petticoat, though I say it, that should not, was 
a, comely enough lass to look at; and though I wrought hard 
all the week, I made myself clean when I went to prayers 
upon Sundays, and went to confession, though nothing had 
I to confess at all, at all, — for I was innocent then, sgid 
knew nothing of man or their wicked ways — and the 
neighbours pointed me out ^s a pattern, and siaid th,ere is 
Jenny Cassidy, nobody ever saw her taken with liquor, or 
heard her ill-word ; and my heart became puffed up with 
vanity, and I went to wakes, and hurling matches^ and 
trusted in my own strength, and the blissid virgin fp^ook 
me, and left me to myself^ and I found jcqy strength was 
notldng but weakness/' 

At one of these pierry meetings^ her lover contrived to 
make her swallow sl larger portion of liquor than she was 
•iccustomed tp; into wbicb^ it seems, he infused a medicine 



T 
^ 



Jk 



118 

purchased in ah apothecary's shop, which he thought had 
the property of making loving, those who took it. — Re- 
turning home by an unfrequented road, he decoyed her into 
ft lonely field, where, partly by force, and p^irtly by intreaty, 
amidist tears of sorrow, and of pleasure ; amidst struggles 
of shame, and of rapture ; amidst the lamentations of lost 
innocence^ and the sighs and ejaculations of new found 
joy ; to make use of her own words, he obtained his 
wicked purposes. — At their next meeting he comforted her, 
by telling her she had committed no crime ; that they had 
broken a sixpence together, and were, therefore, man and 
wife in the sight of Heaven, — and that he would marry 
her, before men and devils, in holy church, whenever his 
service was out, which would be in three or four months. — 
Lulled by his fair promises, she delivered herself without 
restraint to the sweet delirium of love ; and in a summer's 
evening, under the hawtliorn hedge, scented with fragrance, 
on a green bank, covered with daisies^ and spangled with 
dew drops, while the birds carolled around them in unison 
with their joys, she tasted pleasures, which greatness 
seldom knows 6n its softest bed of down, — Nature is a 
great leveller, and is pretty uniform in her blessings, as 
well as her gifts. — What sh6 gives in continuance to sonfre, 
she makes up in intensity of enjoyment to others; bloated 
and unwieldy wealth, often dozes through life with less real 
gratification than this poor country lass experienced in a 
few moments of stolen interview with the man she loved. 
Man may be proud of the adventitious gifts of fortune ; 
but in the weakness of birth, the period of sleep, at the 
hour of death, and on the soft bed of love, all are equal — 
*^ The great and the little are there, and the servant is 

free from his master." — Her love continued unabated^ 

and seemed ^^ to grow with what it fed on." — With the 
lover it was otherwise — satiety soon followed enjoynaent 



e_ 



119 

-T-his visits became less frequent^ ai^d at length ceased, 
altogether. — It was her turn now to be a suppliant^ and an 
upsuccessful one. — ^In vain she followed him with tears and 
supplications^ in vain she reminded him of his broken 
sixpence, of all the oaths j^ had sworn, and all the pro- 
lines he had made—- the rustic Lothario heard her with 
an indifterence that would not have disgraced his brother 
Libertines in a higher station of life. — The hour of delivery 
approached — her secret was still her own — again she 
spught him out^ and found him with difficulty — she fell 
upon her knees before him,— she clasped her arms round 
his, and bathed them with her tears,— ^he implored his 
pity, his forgiveness 5 by sinners in purgatory, by blessed 
souls in paradise, by the great God by whom one day they 
were to be judged — she implored him, while yet it was in 
his power, to save her from ruin and shame.-— Sorrow 
iQade her eloquent, and the poor and illiterate {Irishwoman 
spoke the language of poetry, because she spoke the lan- 
guage of the heart. — " Look upon me,'* said she, ^* look upon 
me, look upon my pale face, and altered body, and think 
lyho is the cause of it.^ — I was happy till you knew me j I 
was innocent till you seduced me; till I knew you I was 
nothing but good ; ough, dont you be my punishment for 
l^eingbad ! — What is this world even to the longest liver-— 
you are young now, but you will soon be old— your green 
head will soon be grey; and then you would ^ve the 
Tiprld not to have such a sin on your soul."— He en- 
deavoured to get away, but she held him fast. — ^^- By the 
ijappy hours we have known together, by the sorrowful ones 
I have known since, save me ! save me ! or kill me on this 
^pot, and I will bliss you for it, and count you my best friend, 
though you have been my sorest enttny.— You laft3W you have.** 
7-^<-The hardened ru$an now spoke in his turn. — He 



12a 

rtviled^ he abused^ he cursed her; — ^he did not kill, but he 
wounded her more deeply — "he was not so far gone," besaid^ 
" as to take a whore for his wife, and to have his first born A 
bastard.*'— This last insult was too ihuch—rreason, which had 
been tottering befoire, now fori^ok her etitifely — Convul- 
sions followed, in which labour took place, and, stretched 
upon the floor of her destroyer's cabin, she brought forth a 
Son. — Of what passed for several years, she had but little re- 
collection; — her thoi\^hts were all dark and gloomy; she sat 
for days together in the large building, where she was con- 
fined, couiiting the straws, unable to speak^ or to sing, or 
eyen to cry,— when she could do either she felt happy*^- 
" and often, and often,*' said she, "when the whole world was 
adleep, ftiid the nioOn s.hoi>e bright^ I stood at the bars of 
my window, and sung to my Saviour, the live-long night, 
the story of my woes ; and he heard me in pity^ and sent 
little doves down from heaven to comfort me, and'to tell 
lOe not to mind the persecutions of ^lan, for they had per«- 
secuted hini also/*— At times, however, she was mote outra- 
geous, and then the keeper treated her with great harshness, 
and she had still, she said, the marks of the blows he gave 
her.-— On one of those occasions, in which she was tamed 
into iquietness, a woman was permitted to see her. — Her 
lover's conscience was at length awakened, and he began to 
feel compunction 'for the wrongs he had done her, — he 
begged her to take comfort, he promised to marry her 
the moment she came ojit, and besought her, to send him, 
by his messenger, some token of forgivenesss* — " Did you 
send any answer,*' I asked her.^ — ^* I did not," she replied, "I 
could not send any.-.— But I opened my breast, that she 
might tell him of the marks that were on it ; and I tore a 
handful of my bair for her to give him. — It was almost grey 
then ; it was black when he knew me first/' — Madness^ as 
^ell as sorrow, often breaks forth in unpremeditated sub^ 



1?1 

lime — I was sttruck with the resemblance^ which this sim- 
ple contrast of her present and former situation bore to the 
answer of the celebrated Marius, to the order of the pro- 
consul of Utiea, instantly to quit his province.— ^He was 
proscribed and a wanderer ; a price was on his head^ 
and he was m the most squalid garb.—*** What shall I say to 
the pro-consul ?" said the lictor who delivered the messag^e* 
■'^Tell him,^ replied the other, surveying him with dignity^ 
^^ that you saw Caius Marius in exile, seated on the ruins of- 
Carthage."-*-- Fromthisdeplorablestate, after a lapse of many 
years, she recovered, and her father, softened hy her suf- 
ferings, took her again into his house. — Her seducer was 
long dead; he had bis skull fractured at a neighbouring 
fair, in a drunken fray, in which the inhabitants of two 
town-lands were matched against each other.— Her son 
in the mean time grew up> and was her only consolation— "> 
the affection which had met with so barbarous a return 
from his father was centered -in him, and when he was at 
her side, her former sufferings were forgot ; and a better 
youth, she said, never broke bread, nor a kinder heartl- 
and I thought my troubles were all over, and that he would 
be the staff of my old age, and would close my eyes, and 
be always near me. — ^In this, however, she was disappoint- 
ed—the consequences of her, transgression {Pursued her, 
where she could be wounded the most—her son was dis- 
pised on her account — the young women slighted him, the 
young men would not keep company with him, and all 
descriptions fastened on him that, in Irelaqd, most oppro- 
brious of all appellations— bastard. The young man 
having coolly weighed his> situation, took an aifectionate 
leave of his mother by letter, and early one morning left 
fais native village, to seek, among strangers, the sympathy 
and kindness the prejudices of his neighbours denied him.— 
He enlisted in a regiment, then stationed at Drogheda^ 



from whcaice hi9.]nother had frequent accounts of him.— rl& 
consideration of his good conduct, lie was made a corporal, 
and she was beginning to recover from the distress his 
leaving home had caused her, when she received the dread- 
ful news, which occasioned her present journey, as well as 
sorrow. — All her former ones were nothing, compared to 
it' — when her lover deceived her first, and then deserted 
her, when her friends renounced, when the world frowned, 
and her reason forsook her — in the faint glimmerings 
of it, with which she was visited, she still had comfort — 
she had no joy in life, but she had hope in death — in her 
Saviour who died on the cross, who was a man of sorrows 
himself, in whose blood she would be washed clean from 
all her transgressions ; but now she said, she had no joy, 
DO comfort, no hope — he had turned his face from her in 
wrath ; the punishment of her sin was on her, in the per- 
son of the son, to whom that sin had given birth.-— Oh ! 
had she died a year ago, she would have been happy, for 
then she would not have known it— -or had it been his 
death only, had it been fair death, from the hand of 
God, she would have followed him with pleasure to the 
church-yard, and when the last sod was laid oa his 
coffin, she would have stretched herself beside it^ and 
prayed to God that she might never see the mornipg. — 
But it was the death of his soul that she lamented, — ^the 
Church had disowned him, the priest had cursed him, the. 
curse of God was on him, and her wick^4^eas was the 
cause. — ^The spn of $in had alUed himself t,o the daughter 
of perdition.— He had married— a Protestant. — I endeavomr- 
ed to reas^Ei hex out of so unfortunate a prejudice, hut the 
attempt waa unavailing, and even injurious — her eye 
became phrenzied, and her whole frame so agitated, th^t it 
threatened a return of the miidQess from which, it is pos-; 
^ible, she had never entirely recovered. — ^We if ere now at 
the end of the town^ I therefore took a hasty leave of her^ 



123 

m 

not the less sincerely lamenting her sorrow, because the 
cause of it was imaginary. — ^I have related this story, not 
only because I think that readers of a certain description 

^ will be gratified with it, but as it shews how religious pre- 
judice, which had for a while lain dormant in Ireland, 
is again unhappily revived. — I have seen several instances 
already, and from all I can learn, shall see many more. — I 
shall therefore say little on this subject at present ; 'deplor- 
iiig, however, as I most sincerely do, that what was given 
for a blessing, should have become a curse ; that the folly 
of nian, should convert the wholesome food of religion into 
a deadly poison, and that the inhabitants of a country, who 
possess kindness of heart, to a greater degree perhaps than 
those of any other, should be drawn forth like hostile ar- 
mies, arrayed for mutual destruction 5 or rather like enraged 
tygers, ready to tear each others bowels out. — This story, 

. likewise, shews the peculiar habits of thinking, of the Irish 
peasantry, with whom loss of chastity is a crime of the 
deepest die ; partly dependent on their strong sense of re- 
ligion, still more, perhaps,' on their lively sensibility ; which 
renders them painfully alive to the opinions of others. — ^This 
prevalence of opinion must strike every person who has 
opportunities of observing the domestic manners erf the 
Irish. — ^Wliat would the neighbours say to such a thing ? is 
the question, which people even of the middle class ask 
themselves on every little, as well as great occasion. — Very 
often considerable sacrifices are made to this voluntary bon- 
dage they impose on themselves. A young lady wa» 
cotirted by a gentleman of excellent character, and inde- 
pendent fortune — she refused him, (as she said) by the 
directions of her mother. — ^Aftiend, who well knew her 
straitened curcumstances, remonstrated with the old lady :— 
*' Is he not (he asked) a liberal man, as well as a rich one ; 
and might he ti6X be of great use to your younger chil- 



m 

clren?'* — She* admitted he might. — *^ Is he not a better otkr 
than you can ever expect for your daughter again?'' — *^ She 
feared he was." — What madeyou refuse him, then ?*' — "On ac- 
count of his name^ to be sure,'^ replied this judicious parent— «• 
*' fifty years have I Jived in the town of — , and never kept 
BJoy but the best company-*-! have people enow to envy 
lae : and with God's help they shall never turn their noses 
up at Mrs. G ■ . 

This inquisitorial power of opinion would have great 
efficacy, in keeping the community virtuous, if it was 
uniformly exerted, or had any rational standard to refer 
itself to : — ^But in every country the progress of reason is 
Flow; in Ireland, from unfortunate causes, it is peculiarly 
so. — ^Muchof what is really vice, is not deemed so.— Drunk- 
enness is not a sin, quarrelling is not a sin — they flatter 
sometimes their pride, but never wound it: — but breach o{ 
chastity is the sin never to be forgiven, because it is 
shame — ^it is degradation. — A name of the highest reproach 
in France, would be none here — because it woyld be unin- 
telligible 5 they have two however™ one for each of the 
sexes — that for the woman, I need not name — that for 
the man, is— bastard. 

I stood an hour in my friend's shop this morning, after 
breakfast, and ^as highly amused with the manner of 
doing business.— The number of people that came in was 
very great, and so was the trouble they gave ; stufis, dimi- 
ties, and cottons, were tossed about, with . as much indif- 
ference to the trouble given the. shopman, as a fashionable 
lady in Boi.d street feels on a similar occasion :—- one or 
two women bought gowns, and I observed that the coleurs 
they preferred, were all diflFerent shades of green — a very 
elegant stuiDT, of a pale yellow was shown them — the 
youngest seemed pleased with it, but the other whispered 
something in Irisb^ and then laid it aside.— I remarked 



125 

the shopman smiled, and asked him what she said : 
*♦ Dont havfe any thing to do with it, it is a protestant 
colour." Green, in all its shades, is catholic — ^Orange 
is protestant: — Green is not only the most beautiful, 
but it is the national colour. — All the attachments, indeed, 
and prejudices of the Catholic, have a reference to the 
country, to the soil, to the sod, as he affectionately terms it ; 
— this is a more natural feeling, and therefore bids fair to be 
more lai^ting than the protestant one, which is artificial and 
factitious, founded on recollections that time must infallibly 
weaken, and on attachments that are extrinsic and adven- 
titious.— Very few of these poor people could speak English 
-—my friend's pride won't allow him to learn Irish.— 
In this instance, as pride often does, he pays for its 
gratification— he is obliged to keep a shopman at a large 
salary, who acts as an interpreter, and who, I suppose, caii 
speak Irish very well, for he spoke English very badly ; — he 
translated for me one or two Irish jokes, which he said would 
make me laugh heartily. This is always an unfortunate 
exordium ; whether it was it, or that he allowed the wit to 
evaporate in the translation, but I felt more inclination to 
yawn. If the jdces were good ones in the Irish language, there 
they should have been allowed to remain, for they were 
very dull ones in English. — ^The grand article purchased by 
the men, is a very essential part of human clothing — I 
mean breeches — though the Irish peasantry have been stig- 
matized ai$ republicans, they do not deserve the name of 
Sans-culottes; on the contrary, this part of their dress claims 
much of their attention ; they pride themselves, on having 
them large, and clean, and whole, — ^the coat and waistcoat 
seem much less thought of, and are often in rags^-why they 
should be the objects of such honourable preference, I shall 
not atti^mpt to conjecture: but as a hero in romance dis* 
covers himself by throwing open his cloak and 4kplayln§ 



128 

fior even morality. — It is pride, it is vanity in its cool^ it is 

delirium, it is phrensy in its heated moments. It mingles 

with their amusements, and floats on their cups ; it is felt by 
the drunkard and blackguard, as mu^ as by the most orderly 
and sedate. — The concluding 1^|V each verse of a song 
I once heard in a company of drinl^^ Orange-men, was as 
follows : " And to H— — with the breed forever." — By the 
breed was meant the catholics, or papists as they are most 
commonly termed here ; it is almost needless to add, that 
whenever the musician got the length of this benevolent 
line, the whole party joined rapturously in the chortts.*-— 
We must not, however, conclude hastily from this, that the 
character of Irishmen is radically worse than that of other 
men ; extrinsic circumstances only have moulded it into a 
fonn difierent indeed from its real one ; the same, perhaps 
worse prejudices would exist in any other country, where a 
struggle for preponderance between two sects had exi&ted 
for so great a length of time — where the mass was the 
conquered, and the handful the conqueror, where the 
nation was the oppressed, and a colony the X)ppressors ; 
which preserved its hard earned supremacy by ever-wak^l 
/ exertion and vigilant, perhaps necessary severity. — In £iig^ 
land, during the civil war, the people went religiously, as ^ 
they have often since gone |x>litically, mad — happily, it was \ 
only a remittent, while in Ireland it has been a continued 
fever.— During the time it lasted, however, it was ecpiaHy 
ridiculous,and equally contemptible. — ^Thepresbyterian hated- 
lawn sleeves, surplices, and set forms of prayer ; the pmi^ ^^^U 
had causes for sorrow no less important ; he abpninated 
music, and could not abide an organ ; the altar was s4b the 
east end of the church, instead of the middle ; he was oblige 
< ed to bow his head at the liame of Jesus, to keep fasts and 

feasts, to be mortified in Lent, and to eat plumb-pudding, 
and mince pies at Christmas. There was no enduring 
such formidable exactions, and so he went to wa|. to get 



129 

rid of them.— -In proportion as it was assailed by the waves 
of fanaticism^ the Church of England man became more 
and more attached to the holy ark, " as he thought it,** of 
his own religion : his affections were kindled, his pride 
was wounded, his feelings were roused, and, as long as the 
Church wanted repose, he could take none of his own. 
Hume, in his history *of that period, gives many ludicrous 
instances of those passing follies: — I shall mention oi^e, 
not as the most apposite, but as the only one which just now 
occurs to my recollection,—*' Stand up,*' said a drunken 
soldier, of the Royal army, as he came one night rolling 
home ; ^* stand up,'' said he, to a church against which he 
staggered, ** you drunken b — h, — I will stand by you to 
the last." 

Mr. Foster's country residence is a few miles from this 
town ; it is highly improved, and delightfully situated : like 
the demesnes of almost all th« Irish gentlemen, it is open 
to every 4Stranger. Whatever difierence of opinion may 
exist on his public character, there can be none on his 
private j — he is entided to the highest praise, as a landlord^ 
and a resident country gentleman^ He has introduced 
several valuable improvements in agriculture; he has 
bettered the appearance of the country ; and greatly amend- 
ed the condition of the surrounding peasantry. The shady 
^oves, the neat cottage*houses, and rural walks, in the 
neighbourhood of Callen, form an assemblage of pastoral 
beauty, not exceeded by any thing I have seen in England 
or elsewhere.— -^The roads he has made, for many miles 
round, are superior, in grandeur and durability, to any I 
tave ever travelled over. — In consequence of judicious al- 
terations in the corn laws, Ireland, who some years ago had 
not grain enough for her own consumption, has now a 
large quantity for exportation. He was for several years 
afterwards very popular; — particulsorly at the period of 



130 

the union, which, unawed by the threats, and linsfedticed bjr 
the promises, of Mr. Pitt, he opposed most strenuously. 
He appears now, however, as universally reprobated, as hfi 
was then admired. — Many causes, no doubt, hive com- 
bined to produce this efiFect; — the immediate one, however, 
appears to be the weight of the new taxes. — Laying on 
taxes, at the best of times, is but an ungracious business ; 
but when commerce had received such a shock, and people 
were smarting under the irritation of their losses, the very 
name of a tax was an injury ; and ingenious indeed must 
the compounder of it have been, so to disguise the nause- 
ous draught, as t6 make it grateful to the stomach, or pala- 
table to the taste. In his speech in the House of Com- 
mons, in moving those taxes, he depicted, in glowing 
colours, the increasing prosperity of Ireland. In general 
he is little of an orator, and less of a poet; but a plain 
matter of fact man. It would seem, howeVer, that he did 
not confine himself to facts on this occasion :-s»-rrtemory 
would not Serve his purpose, and so he betook himself to 
invention. The people of Dublin, without circumlocution, 
accuse him of telling a parcel of monstrous lies, and assert 
that their distress is very great, and that it must be appa- 
teiit even to the most heedless observer. In this number 
I Uat I rtiust be reckoned. Distress was not apparent to 
iiie ; oh the contrary, the general aspect of Dublin ap- 
peared much improved since I had seen it last. There 
was less splendour, perhaps, less frequency of routs, and 
less brilHahcy of equipage, J do not know that this ban 
"evil.— But there was less of that hideous contrast of cBs- 
giisting rags, and squalid misery, which pained the eye 
before. — ^This I am sure is a good. The lower classes wett 
ckaner and better clad, more decorous in their manners, 
and, whether it was fancy or not, I thought they had ac- 
quired something of an English accent. At levery Hibfe 
to which I was invited I saw nothing but abundance; — ^a 



131 

dinner^ given to a large company by a reputable mereliant^ 
was a most sumptuous one : — an epicure could have desired 
nothing either in food or wine beyond it, — Our entertainer 
was a mighty well spoken man ;-^at least he thought so 
himself) and a party is always of the same opinion with a 
man who gives good dinners. After the ladies were with* 
drawn, he drew a most eloquent picture of the misery of 
the times; stagnation of trade^ and universal bankruptcy: 
in a short time, he said with a sigh, we shouldn't have a 
shoe to our foot, or a bit of bread to put into our mouths. 
*^ They must be different times from the present, then/' 
said I, ^' glancing my eye on the decanters, with which the 
table was covered." My remark did not interrupt the flow 
of his observations ;— -he became more eloquent, and more 
padietic ; and one large, elderly gentleman, who, I suspect, 
was little accustomed to starvation, looked as if he was 
going to cry. Sorrow is always dry, and we swallowed such 
large bumpers of claret, that when we joined the ladies, 
we had all the vi8agesi,^f Benedictines. I was seated beside 
a very elegant young woman ; that was no novelty; all the 
young women I n^et with in Dublin were so ; — she was 
very chatty ; that was still less so ; all the women I ever 
met with, whether old or young, were so. I felt my situa- 
tion rather awkward ;— she accosted me immediately, 
and it was with great difficulty I could answer her : that 
which made my host eloquent^ made me silent. — I was 
^ tongue tied, or rather wine bound : — not that I wanted 
ideas, but they were so confused. — We managed better, 
. howev^, than could have been expected ;-*-the young 
lady spoke with such vivacity, that it was quite a treat to 
hear her; particularly after the dismal ditty I had jvst 
been listening to. She had been only a month in Dublin, 
and found it so charming — walkings and paying visits 
fvexy morning, and every night at some party or otl^en 



132 

She was not like tlie good man of the house;*-— she had 
no fears of being ruined. She described the l>eauty of the 
Rotunda gardens, " where she had been a few nights be- 
fore," in the glowing colours of enthusiastic and undis- 

appointed youth. It was quite a fairy scene, she said, 

and when she listened to the soft notes of the music, as 
they died away upon the breeze, and gazed on the gay as- 
sembly who wandered through the delicious shades, illu- 
minated by the coloured lamps that hung in gay festoons 
from the branches, she could have fancied herself in Ely- 
sium. I contrived to tell her that her description pleased 
me so much that I should certainly visit her Elysium next 
evening. — *^ Oh, -do," said she, *^ I will be there my- 
self, with my aunt and a large party; I i^dll introduce you 
to them, and I am sure you will acknowledge it is a 
thousand times prettier than Vauxhall." ** In ycur ccih-» 
pany, I am sure it would be so." This is probably what I 
should have said, had I been sober — I was tipsy, and began 
a fine speech on the occasion. — Nonsensical enough, I 
have no doubt, could I remember it ; something I do re- 
collect about verdant meads, and purling streams, and tlie 
moon's pale beams. At that particular part, however, she 
unkindly withdrew her light, and left me in utter darkness : 
in plain language, I got confused in my speech, and was 
unable to proceed any further. Claret, I find, is but & poor 
Helicon to draw inspiration from : the chrystal stream is ten 
times better; — probably, because, like most other authors, 
it is a drink I am more accustomed to. 

Even in this remote place the progi^ess of refinement be- 
gins to be felt, and^ within the last four years, two cases of 
adultery have occurred— the last of which was attended 
with circumstances rather peculiar— the lady's name was 
N - " ■■ ■ ■ ; the gallant's. Colonel S— — -, nephew and heir 
to Lord A' - ■ ■ .ITie husband, who was suspicious of an, 



133 

intrigue, forbade his wife to speak to him : — meeting them 
a few days afterwards conversing on the road, he gave the 
Colonel a severe horsewhipping — a duel followed^ but, after 
the first shot, the magistrates arrived and put them under 
an arrest, — the Colonel was himself married to an amiable 
woman who had borne him four children. — ^After a short, 
but severe struggle, between duty and inclination, he gave 
up his commission, and fled, with his gentle Desdemona, to 
the Isle of Man — the receptacle of run aways, from this 
country, of every description. — The lady fearful, however, 
that when passion subsided, his fondness for his youngest 
son might cause him to return, contrived to decoy the child 
from his mother, and carried him along with them. — Candour 
obliges me here to mention, that this lady was not a native 
of Drogheda, nor even of Ireland — she was the daughter of a 
merchant in London ; where, if there are some vicious, there 
are a much greater number of virtuous women./— In 
ancient times, parliaments were frequently held in Droghe- 
da, one of which attainted the great Earl of Desmond, w ho 
was bejieaded in consequence, the fifteenth of February, 1467 
— report makes his crime to be exloorting coyne and livery 
— which means free quarter for horse and man, and money 
besides. — Tradition, however, tells a different story, and 
says that the real cause of his death was not the ostensible 
one :~he despised the king, for his marriage with the lady 
Elizabeth Grey, and often said she was a tailor's widow. — 
This was an affront it was hardly in female nature to forgive j 
and though the poor Earl was so distant, her Majesty con- 
trived to reach him with her shears.^-- -King Edward, it is 
said, was willing to forgive him, but the Queen stole the 
privy signet, ^nd put it to an order for his execution.- -The 
irritability of tailors, to insinuations thrown out against their 
profession, seems at all times to hav^ been very great. — The 
fraternity in London, luckily for Mr. Dowton, had not so 



...■If 



t • 



^••m ^p^. 



134 

much fowtt as this Atropos of a queen — he advertised a 
ftrce for his benefit which exposed them to ridicule — they 
made a riot to prevent its representatiou — ^had they held 
the scissars of fate^ they would have cut the actor as weB 
as his comedy short. 



CHAP. XUL 



Drogheda. 



There are several pretty walks about this town, which 
however seem to.be little frequented — the weather was 
charming, and the sea-breeze, which breathed on one ot 
them, made it delightful; yet it was silent and solitary as the 
deserts of Arabia.--- rWalking for amusement seems much 
less common than in England — the females, I suppose, 
are more domestic ; this, doubtless, is a great blessing to 
their lovers, and husbands, but it is monstrous inoonveni- 
• fent to the traveller, who soon tires of the most beautiful 
landscape that is not brightened " by the human face divine." 
The view from the Castle-mount, as it is called, is very 
fine ; it was erected a short time before the late unfortunate 
rebellion, and a battery planted on it, which commands- the 
whole town ; whether in consequence of this, or other pru- 
dent precautions, Drogheda remained tolerably quiet, though 
the number of the disaffected was su{5posed to be very great 
—lenient measures, however, were as little had recourse to 
as in other places.—- »The yeomanry corps of the neighbour- 
hood were assembled in the town, and billeted on the inha- 
bitants-*-they were all staunch 'protestants, and of course 
outrageously loyal.— -Loyalty, like charity, covers a multitude 
df sins ; — they all drank imd caroused, swallowed wine and 






135 

tvhisky inpail.fuUs, and, in their zeal for the good old cause, 
I fear, committed a number of b^d actions, — The jCatholics 
of Drogheda were to the protestants in the proportion of 
eight to one ; and every catholic was a rebel of course, who 
aimed at nothing short of the extirpation of the protestant 
religion, by the destruction of these its pious and learned 
defei^ers. — Their powers were unlimited, their prejudices 
were strong, and their fears were great: — when present fear 
iji^as added to fprmer recollection, it was hardly to be ex- 
pected they would bear their faculties very meekly — fear 
b^s leyer been the parent of the most horrid deeds. — Nero 
and Dojnitian were capricious, brutal, and malicious, almost 
from their first accession to the throne ; but they were not 
decidedly cruel, until they knew they were hated : fear, then, 
saw an a^s^sin in every form, and a dagger in every hand ; 
and the most atrocious deeds, were considered only neces* 
sary acts of self preservation. — The Catholic hated the 
protestant. — Alas ! that is not wonderful — he had suffered 
much, and had suficredlong, — he was beat down, and oppress- 
ed — he was despised, reviled, and persecuted — a stranger in 
his native land, he could obtain no honour, and gain no dis« 
tinction : — even the land which gave him birth, which to him 
was nothing but a cradle and a grave — the religion to which 
he so fondly clung, which enabled him to bear his misfor- 
tunes upon earth, and pointed out to him happiness here- 
after in heaven, were terms of contempt and reproach^ 
The protestant hated the cathoiyiie — wherefore — his revenge 
might have been satiated — he had inflicted misery enough> 
his vanity might have been gratified — his w^s the triumph 
— his avarice might have been appeased— his was the 
gain. — Wherefore, then, did he hate him, — because he feared 
him— because though disarmed, he was not helpless^ 
because though cast down he was struggling to rise, and^ 
Antaeus like, might rise stronger Arom the touch of his 



136 

parent earth : — he hated him because he had inflicted misery, 
because his was the triumph, because his was the gain. 

*' Foi|;tvecess to the injured does belong. 

But he tte*er pardons, who has done the wrong.^ 

The conduct of the yeomanry; however, on the following' 
occasion, was highly meritorious. A party of the Wex- 
ford rebels, clo&ely pressed by the army, separated them- 
selves from the main body, and, without any apparent 
object, except the temporary one of avoiding the force 
that pursued them, or the vague expectation of being 
joined by the country people of the places through 
which they passed, traversed in a wild and rapid manner, 
a distance of upwards of a hundred miles ; and, at length, 
by chance, rather than design, arrived in the neighbour- 
hood of Drogheda. — The intelligence of this, as may be 
supposed, threw the rgyalists into considerable confusion } 
their force was inferior to the rebels, who, instructed by the 
warfare they had carried on for several weeks against the 
King's troops, were now become veterans in the art of war, 
—The volunteers, however, leaving a small force foi" the 
defence of the town, marched out with great courage to 
meet thein ;— -^courage was universally displayed by all the 
yeomanry corps, and would have entitled them to the 
highest praise, had it been oftener than it was connected 
with humanity. On their arrival at the spot where the rebels 
were posted, they immediately attacked and dispersed them 
in everydirection. These unfortunate wretches made, itwould 
appear, but a poor resistance, unworthy of their former repu- 
tation. — This will not be wondered at, by those who under-^ 
stand the character of the lower Irish — who are, beyond all 
others, governed by wild and unsettled emotion, and are 
often as helpless in depression, as they are bold and enter- 
prizing under les^ desperate circumstances,— An immense 



137 

distance of country lay between them and their home,— 
their bodies were exhausted by fatigue and want of food, — 
and their minds dispirited by the disappointment of their 
hopes of being joined by great numbers. — few joined 
them, and those who did were of no use, — unaccustomed to 
face danger, at the first approach of it they ran away ;-— tlieir 
situation was desperate therefore, — of success they had no 
hope, and of mercy they had no chance. The courage of the 
Irish peasant, like all his other virtues, is headlong, violent, 
and unreflecting — ^Furious in attack, cheered by example, 
and animated by hope, regardless of consequences, he rushes 
boldly into the cannon's mouth; but in hopeless danger, 
which he has leisure coolly to survey, his fortitude almost 
always forsakes him, — despair, which^ often gives courage 
to others, who never possessed it before, softens and relaxes 
his — he looks round upon the world he is so soon about to 
leave, — he thinks upon his father, his mother, his wife, hia 
children ; he calls them by their names, he addresses them as 
if they were present ; the field which he laboured, the cot- 
tage which gave him birth, the tree which gave him shelter^ 
all are present to his imagination, 

Dulces 

Mortens reminiscitur Argos. 

The waves of passion subside, and tenderness possesses him 
solely — The lion*s heart feels all a woman's weakness, and he 
who the moment before would hiRre met death undaunted, 
melts into tears and unavailing lamentations. * Every per- 
son who has seen the Irish and Englishman in circum- 
stances of peril, would, perhaps, remark the superior daring- 
ness of the former ; but he would equally be struck with 
admiration, at the manly resolution and stern stoicism with 
which the latter meets death when it is inevitable. " God 
have mercy on us ! (exclaimed I) sitting at the open win- 






138 

dov of An flast iBii^foa^, on seeing a njan struggling in 
the waves, who had fallen overboard ; '^ nothing c^n save 
hinir-n^he must die, he must die !" '^ That was what I was 
bore for !" said the poor fellow, as he turned his maply counr 
tenanee towards me. The waves bore h^in so close to me 
that I thought I eould have touched him with my )iand had I 
cKtended it-r-th^ next was of more fataji consequence^ and 
« buried him in its bospm for ^ver, 

I should, perhflpfi, «f»p)^ize for the following; yet it is so 
«haacteristic that J cannot bring myself to suppress it. 
I walked through the town this morning to form a n^ore 
^cpuiate ideathairl yethad4oneof its appearanceand dimen^ 
oiens. i was acoosted by a wom^n. I )thought she was a 
beggar, and was pre^parii^ to give her some tri^e ; when she 
masfieaaeA to make me ^cqiiaiated with the real aature 
4if ber{>Do£e$sioQ.-^I looked at her with astonishment, no^ 
wthout some ^miK^ture of horror : — tliis Drogheda Cyprian 
«BS,i ithiidc, above .3ix feet high; her matted and sandy locks^ 
^Hmyed pxer her immense shoulders aud forehead — her 
doak, ndiich was o£ the s^me colour as he/ h^r^ flew in 
tattersbehindher, and through die innumerable.c^^evicesof her 
petticoat^ the wind of heaven, visited her limbs full rough- 
ly. — It was a real Spartan one, and'Ly curgus himself might have 
been satisfied with the slit that ran up the front of it. — ^Though 
«he invited one courteously to the bower jof love, I declined 
k; civitly, however, for I wished to avoid all kind of en- 
jagemeot with so formidable a^ aitiazon^ — I wai^ gently 
Skoving off when she caught hold of my arm, and swoxe ^ 
fdbouldvnot part with her in that manner, — ^^had^nt $he copae 
•dse whcde .way across the street* and was I going to give hisr 
tall tliat .trouble for nothing ? — In England, every foreigner 
lis a Freachman,r^In Ireland, every person, whose ac- 
eeot differs from idie natioi]^ one, is in like manner ai&- 
£nglishman..-^She bad been with many Englishmen, but 
they were not half-men, she politely said ; an Irishman was 



»^^ 



139 

the man for the ladieis. " He must be a man indeed," mA 
I, parodying Shakespeare, 

" That dare look on that 
" Which might appal the devil." 

It would have been as v^ell for me to have reserved mjr 
quotation for some other occasion, — my fair companion did 
not quote in return, she was too great a genius bx that ; . 
she addressed me in a style of eloquence altogether original ; 
there was information in it too. — I was. an English hog, my 
belly was my God j some Yorkshire rider who had run away 
with his master's bags, and was now setting up for a gentler- 
man ; or a London hair-dresser, perhaps, who had stoleii 
the parson's best coat, and was now come abroad to shew 
himself. When a girl of the town gets abusive in the 
street, there is only one method of stopping it, that, however^ 
is an effectual one, and succeeds as well with her as wiik 
members of parliament. — ^I gave her some moneys tl^e e0^Qt 
was instantaneous. — ^^ War smoothed his wrinkled iront;"-^ 
'^ I was an honourable, nay, a most honourable gentleman,** 
T^ere was something in my face that struck her the first 
moment she saw me,-^gh, and wasn't that the reason she 
liad come over to me, though one of her best customers was 
waiting for her under a gateway.— She swore by the holy 
erode of St. Patrick, and the blissed toe of St.— I beg the 
Saint's pardon, but I really have forgot the name, — ithat.she 
would go that instant and drink my health in a bumper of 
whiskey. — She prayed the sweet Jesus to guard me hy 
land and by water, on shipboard and, on horseback, and 
finally wished me a happy sight of my friends in Yoikshirei 
of which country she persisted in thinking me a native,-** 
though I should have supposed my giving her money, 
without getting any thipg in return, might have comdnced 
her of the contrary. 

We never (it is said) know the full value of good, untfl 



\ 



140 

we hare experienced evil. — I am sure I never knew thewortb 
of silence so much as on parting with this loquacious dame. 
To enjoy it to perfection, I saunteredinto the church-yard, 
the door of which stood charitably open : — in general^ how- 
ever, Irish church-yards, different from English ones, are 
'rigidly appropriated to their proper purposes,— they arc 
leceptables for the dead only, — the living are excluded; 
and the tour writer is deprived, by this arrangement, of an 
easy method of shewing his wit, as well as filling up a few 
pages by the insertion of quaint epitaphs, and ill-spelt 
inscriptions. — In Drogheda church-yard, however, I saw 
nothing of this sort ; the inscriptions were modestly written. — 
In general they expressed the day of death and the age only. 
The characters were remarkal)ly well formed, and cut so 
deeply that they promised equal durability with the stone 
itself. — ^One epitaph I insert, on account of the lofty pane- 
gyric a mourning husband passes on his wife ; — few hus- 
bands I am afraid can say as much for a living one. — 
^ Her body and mind immaculate, without one stain of 
filth or sin, — justice held her balance in her breast — truth 
its temple — taught of God, her religion was in spirit, 
#-tiot in mode. Faithful, benevolent, lovely and beloved, 
her fiace the emblem ,of her mind, would you have her 
fellow, you must follow her to Heaven." It is 

likewise recorded, with great triumph, that this lady, 
(Mrs. A. Fisher) was lineally descended from the great 
Earl of Clarendon — She is not the only native of Drog- 
heda, however, for whom a kindred with a great man has 
been claimed. — Tiiere lived here about sixty years ago, 
one Guy Harrison, who boasted of his descent from Shake- 
speare; — he said he was his grand nephew, and delighted in 
speaking of his uncle. This anecdote is mentioned by a 
gentleman who often conversed with him 5 but who was 
then too young to take much interest in any thing that 
related to our immortal bard,*-.Harrison kept a little shop, 



HI 

in which he sold thread, tape, laee, and other small haber- 
dashery—his circumstances were indigent.-— Should not 
some enquiry be made concerning his family ? — Perhaps, if 
he had any children some of them may be still in being, 
I have likewise heard, that within these few years, a lineal 
descendent and namesake of the celebrated Spenser, was • 
resident in this neighbourhood—^that he was in possession 
of an original portrait of the poet ; which he valued so 
highly, as to refuse five hundred pounds which had been 
offered for it — with many curious papers and records, . 
concerning his venerable ancestor, — The church is a neat 
and elegant building, shadowed by lofty elms, which ^ve 
an air of suitable sdlemnity to it — this is the burial 
ground of the Protestant — not that the Catholic is exclu* 
ded — but so strong is the hatred they bear each other, that 
there seems a disinclination, even that their ashes should 
mingle — evil passions keep them apart during life — they 

disturb even the repose of the tomb. The Catholic 

burying place is about half a mile distant, in a field on tvhich 
a monastery of Dominican Friars once stood. — A small 
portion of it is still standing, and qo doubt serves to give 
greater sanctity to the spot.— There was less order and % 
neatness here than in the other, but more of wildness and 
fancy ; — the thistle grew unchecked, the grass waved slow 
and solemn, and the wild flower breathed its perfume on, 
the chill mansions of the dead. A rude heap of stones, 
often, was the only covering, while in others, the earth raised 
into a mound, and bedecked with a green vsod, secured from 
outrage the bones that slumbered underneath, — at the 
head of all of them, however, a small stone was placed, 
in a perpendicular direction, on which the name, and age 
of the deceased was marked, under a black cross, and the 

following initials I. S. M. Jesus Salvator 

Mundi. — On a great number was likewise inscribed, Gloria 
in excilsis deo. — One monument struck me, as well by its 



142 

beauty, as the singularity of its inscription : — It was a light 
and graceful pillar, somewhat higher than a man, crowned 
with an Urn. The lady to whom it was erected, died in 
child-birth at the age of twenty-seven : after enumerating 
her good qualities, and bewailing her early fate, the author, 
who was her husband, concludes thus.— 3.« Wrapt in bvbr- 
lASTiNG sleep lies buried here.^'— *-— This is the first in- 
stance of the kind I ever met with in a church-yard, and I 
trust it will be the last. — A tomb stone, is surely of all 
places the most unfit to record ones infidelity on* — It robs 
man of comfort, at the hour, and on the spot where of 
all others he wants it the most.— -The belief of a future 
ttate of existence, is at all times and seasons a delightful 
one — in rosy youth and health, in the lap of prosperity, or 
the soft bed of love 3— but in the day of adversity, on tlic 
bed of sickness, and in the abode of sorrow, where else 
can man seek for consolation,— -its blessings then are felt 
when all other blessings fail us.-*-It comforts those that 
mourn, it binds up the broken in heart, it, gilds the walb 
,of the prison, and makes the straw bed of poverty, a couch 
of softest down; — and at the last solemn liour, when we 
behold the parting struggles of him we love, when the bed 
rocks with his convulsions, when we look on his changed 
face, on his eye, fixt and glassy ; when the cold damp of 
death stands on his forehead, and its icy hand presses on 
his labourinjg heart, even then we do not mourn, as those 
who are without hope.-- — ^^ I know that my Redeemer 
Kreth, and that in the latter day he will stand upon this 
earth, and though after my death, worms destroy my 

body, yet in my flesh shall I see God.'^ Comfort* 

tible doctrine, cheering woi'ds, delightful delusion 5— 
thfiuld it even prove to be one. — Stop then. Barbarian, hold 
thy profane tongue, drop tliy infidel pen;—* -notfor the| 
sake of the dead, they are past your power ; but in mercy 
to Ac Kvmg. — Spare poverty its little hoard, sfkt the 



14A 

grey hairs of declining age ;-— rob not th« wijdoWi, who Ul- 
ments a husband, rob not th€ mother who mourns over 
a darling child, of her last hope, and oilly consolatidh^ 
Cast your imagination into the grave in which he is lyiogi 
and behold her, who, with a countenance of unutterable Woe, 
bends over it;-^>-who, with tongues that speaks not, wkh 
<eyei5 that weep not, contemplates the last sad reeeptacie of 
all her hopes, the ptide and joy of h«r life, thus laid low« 
Behold h^r Convulsed frame, as the earth' falls heavy on bii 
eoflin, — hearken to her frantic scream, when it hided it for 
^ver from her view.——- — ^Hear, then, God of mercy^ her 
fervent, her heart-rending prayer. — Softiy mayst thou rest 
in transient sleep, happily may we meet in life everkst* 
inj^« 



CHAP. XIV. 



MONAGHAK* 



Immediately after writing the above, I took my seat 
in the London deny mail, fcwr this town> I proposed 
leaving Drogheda a day sopner, but found it impossible. — 
An Irishman's house, like Polyphemus's den, -is of easy- 
access ; the difficulty is in getting out of it. — My friend 
could not speak Irish, and hated the Papists ; but in all 
other respects he was a genuine Irishman. He loved his 
acquaintance, and valued his Whiskey only as he could 
have one to share it with him — he would have had me par- 
take liberally of it the night of my departure ; — but as 
the 'sickness of a coach is quite enough, without drunken 
^ sickness into the bargain, I excused myself with some dif- 
ficulty.— ^^^-^-^The coach came in from Ihiblin about one 
in the morning.— On entering it, I found two 'women 



^ 



144 

seated on one side ; 1 took the opposite oile^ and flat- 
tered myself with the hope of undisturbed sleep 
tiir morning. — I was stretching myself on the seat for the 
purpose^ when the return of three stout fellows to their 
places made me sit upright»-^»I was squeezed in between 
two of them, muffled up in great coats, though the night was 
insufferably clo8eh-*-The weakest, says the Proverb, goes to 
the waUi.-r-The last comer into a Coach, is in, like manner 
thrust into the middle* — One of the women, who complained 
>^^ of rheumatism, kept chewing something, which, from its 

horrible, smell, I think was garlic — the men's breaths were 
reeking with Punch likea furnace : — ^Whiskey andgarlic toge- 
ther, could not form a very delectable atmosphere. — I verily 
believe it was heated above eighty — The perspiration stood 
in large drops on my forehead^ and even trickled down my 
face. 

I thought of going on .the outside, but the night, though 
warm, was wet, and it likewise seemed full. — I had no alter- 
native, therefore, but to remain stewing where I was ; pray- 
ing, as I most anxiously did, for the morning. — To mend the 
matter, after travelling a few miles, the man on ray left hand 
fell asleep, and began snoring like a Rhinoceros i-^-his head 
every instant came bump up against me, though I drove it 
back with a violence that would have awoke any man who had 
swallowed a less powerful opiate.— -Never did I pj^s a more 
unpleasant night ; for I had not only the annoyance of this 
SLEEPING BEAUTY on the onc side, but of his com- 
panion on the other : — dmnkenness, which ipade the one 
sleep, set the other i^inging ; and, in a uniform, monotonous 
tone, like the drone of a pair of Bag-pipes, he gave us 

bright CHANTICLEER, GRAMMACHREE, and LISTEN TO .. 

, THE VOICE OF LOVE. — Never did the soft notes of the latter 
breathe from more discordant lips. He afterwards laboured 
through another, which had, I think, upwards of forty verses; 
I recollect two of them. 



145 

'^ You are welccmid from the stormy ocdin, . 

I*m glad to see yoa returned again > 
I hope kind fortune sent you prbmotjoo. 

While you were plou^ b ng the raging maio^ 

To you> my jewel, my friends prov*d cruel> 

Which caused roe many a siledt tear 5 
*Twas for your sake my heart did ache. 

When first you parted your Molly dear/* 

l^dence kept me for some time silent. The musician 
Ihiad the fist of an ok, and looked Very well cut out for box- 
ing, whatevei-he ihighl for singing.— At length, finding his 
songs, like the Sultaness^ Scheherazade stories^ were inex- 
haustible^ I lost all patience, and asked him angrily how he 
thought people could sleep, if he kept disturbing them 
in that manner. — " And is it sleep that you are talking abputj 
my honey? (said he with the most perfect Unconcern ;) faith> 
4ind if its that you want, you should have staid at home in 
your neat comfortable bed, and laid yourself snug between 
your two sheets ; the devil a soul here would have thought of 
wakening you.*' — ^I'hough I did not much relish the freedom 
of his address, I thought it as well not to pursiie the argu* 
toieni: any further) and, after a moment or two's pause, he 
changed his song into a whistle.-r-He was not more fortunate 
here than in the other : exhausted with fatigue, at length 
I iFell asleep, and left him m the middle of Rule Britannia^ 
after having gone through the Coolan with its thirteen vari- 
ations.—*! was awoke by the stopping of the coach in 
Carrickmacro'sS) about seven in the morning. — I got out, 
and sauntered a little ^bout the town, while the horses were 
changing. — 1 think it consists of one street only, which is 
k very broad one; but whether it is situated on a hill or in a 
Valley I am sure I have no recollection — that terrible fcl- 
tow'$ song still rung in my ears. Had I been in Pluto'9 



^ 



\ 



"1 



H^ 



• ' 



placey I would have given h^ not only Euridice, but half 
the women in my dominions, to be rid of his fAfmig. Hap- 
pily he went no further than this town^ of which he was a 
native. — Notwithstanding the altercation of the preceding 
night, he came up to me in the street, and invited ine into 
his house to have a drop of something warm, just to keep 
the damp out of my stomach this cold m(»ming.-'^I answered 
him dryly, tliati never drank iO amoming*--^heh come over 
said he, and have a comfortable cup of tea,' the MisU'ess 
will boil the kettle in an instant. — I should have b^n a 
brute to have r^etained resentment against so worthy a crea- 
ture. — I was obliged to decline bis offer, however^ for the 
coach was preparing to set off. 

On returning to it, I found it almost entirely desertedr— one 
of th^ women only remained — she who had the rheumatism 
and chewed garlic. — I felt no inclination to enter into con- 
versation with her, — it is but a poor pun, but as I conceived 
it, I will bring it forth : — she probably woUld have given 
VfiefQul words ; I therefore threw myself into the corner occu- 
pied by the ci-devant snorer, and betook myself to follow hb 
example.---The distance from Carrickmapross to Castle- 
blayney is thirteen miles ) when we had got about half way^ 
I awoke {^nd looked out; The morning was wet, the road was 
rough, and the country was drqary. Within^ the landscape 
was not more cheering- r -I shut my eyes a second time^^ nor 
did I awake till the guard's horn announced our arrival in 
Castleblaney. 

Mr. J. Hanway, I think it was, who wrote a long, pam-^ 
phlet on the injurious effects of tea 5 the people read, and 
wondered, and, as is usual when told td give up what they 
like, dr^nk it more than ever : had he been jolted itll nidhf 
in a stage coach, and then experienced the good efSbcts 
from it that I did, be would, I dare say, -have given it a better 
character,---! sat down sick and weary, and Morpl^us, with 



i 



-/ 



J 



i 



Ml 

his leaden hlind^ presiled heav]|;oh my eye^lids* Had I taken 
lip my pen to have written^ nothings I ani sure^ but laudaDum> 
would have flown froahit*— but np sooner had I swallowed a few 
cups of this delicious fluid> than drowsiness and ill-hiimour^ 
blackchildrenof the night) flew away as fastis the Trojans did 
nt the sight of Achilles * Castle Blliy ney is a poor-looking plaee^ 
and contains probaJ;>ly a hundred houses : — it takes its 
i»ame from the noble femily of Blayney^ to whom it belongs* 
The demesne joins the town 5 the present Lord had the old 
hoft^ taken down, and the present expensive one erected in 
its stead, i have never seen it, but ^m told it is a xadst fanta^-^ 
tic buildings The Inn where I breakfasted was likewise buHt 
by his Lordship — it is a large and handsome hous(, and seems 
very well kept. There was a smaller house a little distance 
from it, but it was unfortunately burned down a few months 
ago !— The Landlord saved himself and one of his children; 
but his wife, two infants, a woman servant, and two soldiers^ 
who were billeted on him, perished.*-Tbe Grand Jury, at the 
last Assizes, laid the amount of the damage done him on the 
county, so that he will not be a pe&uniary suflerer* Some 
years ago,^be inferiority of Ireland to England was m no- 
thing nK>re remarkable than in the state of her Inns; tbey 
were wretched and miserable hog-styes, rather than the 
habitations of men ; they had abundance of meat and drink, 
it is true; but fllthy and disgusting, it. was the abundance 
^&ra shambles, or a distillery: — a great alteration has taken 
place in this respect, pAtly from the increase of civilisation, 
partly, as in the present instance, from the exertions of the 
gentlemen, who had towns on their estates.-— English- 
men sometimes travelled into Ireland-^-good eating and 
drinking, are essential points with ihem,**— they value ike 
cpmforts of a tavern life, more, perhaps, than any other peo- 
ple ; and^ accustomed to a high degree of it at home, they 

12 



UB 

could ill-brook the want of tj^em In the sister kiiigdorn,- *- 
the more especially as they were always charged a very good 
price for very bad cheer< — Irish Inn-keepers did not trouble 
their heads much about the improvements of their English 
brethren, but they adopted their prices. They returned^ there* 
fore, dissatisfied and disconAnted, and, in their catalogue of 
Irish wretchedness, the state o£the Inns ^as the most promi- 
nent grievance. When the Irish gentlemen awoke from the 
slothful slumber of ages, and seriously set about introducing 
improvement, they began with these evils, which, though not 
the greatest, were the most talked about-~which met the 
eye of the traveller and stranger, and wounded their own 
vanity by exposing their country and themselves to derision < — 
Good lims were therefore built, and the management of them 
intrusted to discreet and sober meni---It is but justice to 
their labours to- say, that they have in general produced very 
beneficial effects^— -Irish Inns, as far as I have seen> are 
notv only second to English ones — ^in some respects not 
second.— -The dame spirit of assimilating the appearance of 
this country,- ttf that of England, has dictated many other 
of Lord Blayney's improvements in this neighbMirhood.— <^ 
Direction posts have been put up at the diflferer^J cross-roads, 
decently executed, arid of a convenient height ; not like 
many I have seen in England and Wales, so high as to be 
only visible to Hawks and Eagles.—- -the people of Ireland 
do not exclusively make bulls.— -It seems^ no bad praetittl 
one, to construct Finger-posts of %uch a height as to be 
illegible. 

The white-washing of cottages,* on atid n^ar the great 
road, which has been dene by his lordship's order, and I 
believe, at his expense, gratifies the stranger's eye,- and 
tends to give him a favourable idea of the Country •-—It h 
deeply to be lamented, however, that in this,- as in othei^ 
parts of Ireland, the showey and oraamental, should be so 
much more attended to^ than the useful, though less gla^ 



\ 



149 



riug } — that benevolence, not vanity, had presided ; — that * 
the stranger and his opinion, had been considered less, 
and the country and its inhabitants more ; — that tlwse 
efforts which were excited by the dread of ridicule, to 
escape from the sneer of pride, from the contempt of 
unfeeling prosperity^ had not sprung from nobler motives, 
and been directed to valuable objects.-r-pTo make the out- 
side of an Irish cabin, resemble an English cottage, might 
gratify the landlord's pride, but could add nothing to its 
owner's comfort : — the improvement should have com- 
menced within, by giving habits of industry and employ- 
ment to himself; by giving food and raiment, to his half- 
starved, and Dot always half-clad wife and children; — 
teaching the vine to bend gracefully round his little abode 
of wretchedness, - and scenting his clay-built walls with 
the honeysuckle's perfume, was little better than an insult — 
it was the sun shining through the bars of a prison, and 
playing on the wretched prisoner's face, in mpckery as it 
were of his woes — it was painting a skeleton, it was 
ornamenting a sepulchre : — *' Which, fair without, is all 

bones and rottenness within." 1 amused myself with 

these reflectioriS, standing at the inn door, till the coach 
was ready ; I was at length roused from my meditations, 
by the clamorous solicitations of a number of beggars, 
who gathered round me ; — I surveyed the little group with 
attention, — it consisted of ten persons, men, wopiei^ and 
children ; where they all came from, I am at a loss to con- 
jecture ; — the street was perfectly empty a minute before ; — 
beggars, like robbers, smell travellers' n^oney afar off. They 
had, in general, the appearance of being well fed, nor were 
they very badly clad ; their dreas bore evident mtitks of 
industry, as it was patched over with different colours, like 
a home-made quilt, or Joseph's garment :™they were, not 
so mild or unobtrusive as English beggars, but with that 
exception, I saw little difference. I gsiye them some tri- 



n 



150 

ffing change^ aod in return they gave me a world of bIes-» 
sings. Ireland is the best country m tlie world for an 
economical man to be charitable in, for he always gets the 
ftiU value of his money in praises, to say nothing of the 
prayers for Ids future happingss.-^^A chaise driving up to 
the door, with two ladies and an elderly gentieman, one of 
the women asked for something : — ** I'll not pve you any- 
thing," said the gentleman, *^ and Til tell you the reason, you 
are drunk." "And I tell you," said the womrin, '* that if yow 
were not a gentleman, and stepping out of yoar coach, I would 
sdy, by C — st you are a liar."-'— Lord Blayney resides very 
tktle on his estate ;— he has been in the army from his 
earliest youth, and is at present with his regiment in 
Gibraltar; — the profession of arms seems as hereditary 
in his family as nobility ;— he is the eleventh Lord^ and 
was born November, 1770; — he is a brave seedier, though, 
if aU I have heard of his conduct in the late rebellion be 
tme, he has but little pretensions to the character of a 
hmnane one ;— he.commanded a body of light infantry, in the 
year 17^> which generally lay in the fields, and moved 
with great rapidity from place to place, as insubordination 
made it necessary. He was not only distinguished for 
the celerity of his movements, but the decision of his con- 
duct ; — the fame of his exploitisi preceded himself, and, 
wherever he and hi§ little army came, he found the place 
deserted. A soldier is seldom a logician, amd what was 
most likely fear, he denominated treason. — In his zeal, he 
probably forgot that the soldier and loyalist must 'eat as 
well as the rebel, anH that the famine his conduct might 
give birth to, would involve them in equal destruction.—^ 
To authorize the burning of bouses, appears to me equally 
inhuman and impolitic : — these burnings, doul^less, caused 
no small terror and consternation to the disaffected , but 
they caused also a loss to the community at Iferge 3 rendered 



151 

milny ^ite desperate^ who wefe deprived of all ; and sug- 
menied the violence of hatred in those among whom these 
IfOffseless p^<^le' todk refuge* — The destruction of corft 
and other provisions, was likewise a most unjustifiaUe 
rtieasnre^ and its effects were felt in dearth and famine^ 
for two years afterwards ; probably in this, as in other cases, 
the lovwr actol*s in the political sceney often exceeded the 
limits, within which administratioti would have confined 
♦hem, if that had been practicable, after they had beeft 
o^^e vested with authority. It is said that in early life, 
Lord Hlayiiey evinced the same spirit he displayed in ripeir 
years :— one of his boyish amusements was o^ so singular 
a nafture, I caniiot foi^bear mentioning it: — be delighted in 
steugtftering cattle, and often gave the butchers in his 
netghboui^bood money, for leave to knock down the devoted 
03t ! the great dexterity he displayed on such occasion^ 
was highly af^lauded by the regular professors, and he 
b^ame as renoivned a cotv killer, as Guy, Earl of Warwick, 
'jfhe old people augured favourably of his military prowess, 
ft6m his proficiency in this kindred art, as well as the ex- 
pression of his i^untenance, which I am told is more akiii 
t<^ that of iiffors, than of Adonis ; — he seldom spoke in the 
Irish House of Lords ; his talent was action ;-*-his knock^^ 
ino*down ai|^ments would be but little relished in that 
illtistriaus A^embly, where reason, as is well known, was 
only attended to. 

. About tiine miles from Castleblayney, is the little town of 
Castleshane; it belongs to a gentleman of the name of 
Lucas; the liouse is a mean and wretched edifice;— if the 
femily is as aticlent as the mansion house, he must be bard 
to please, who is not s^atisfied with its ant8;|uity« 

Hie coach arrived a.t Monaghan, about two o'clock; I bad 
an idtrodttction to a gentleman of the town, who insisted 
0n my spending a day at his bouse.— *-I confess I compikd 



15^ 

with little reluctance ; I was tired of the coach, andgU 
to . exchange it for a comfortable night's sleep, warm room, 
and good dinner* During the interval, I amused myself with 
walking about the town ; it had ceased raining, and an 
indifferent morning was succeeded by a very fine day. 
Monaghan is the assise town of the county, and waJs for- 
merly a place of some strength ; Sir John Davids, in a 
letter to the Earl of Salisbury, says, he visited it in the 
suite of the Lord Deputy, in July, 1606. They travelled 
with a smidi escort of eight score foot, and the same num- 
ber of horse, which is an argument, he says, of a good 
time, and a confident deputy. It did not, then, deserve the 
name of a town, and consisted of a few scattered cabins 
round the f6rt ; — it belonged, with large tracts of the 
country, to Hugh Roe M^Mahon, chief of his name; who 
petitioned the deputy to be settled in his inheritance, and 
the Irish say it cost him six hundred cows to get a promise 
of it^v'^if such a promise was made, it was never per* 
formed :-r-he was tried, condemned, and exeeuted^ for 
levying forces two years before, to distrain for rent he pre^ 
tended due to himt The Irish say he had bard measure, 
and that his gre^t crime was his large possessions. His son, 
or grandson, took an active part in the grand rebeilioD(1641); 
the very morning that it broke out, he surprized the castle 
of Monaghan, garrispned by a company of foot, com* 
» manded by one of the Lord Blaney's. After a fortnight's 
confinement, his lordship w^s taken to his own orchard, 
hanged, stripped, and thrown into a ditdi. M'Mahon 
indulged himself in the gratification of his revenge:— 
^* I?o you remember (said he to )^m) how you hanged my 
brother, and made me fly my country for several years, but 
I \vill hang you before I go ; but if you will, you shall have 
a priest/' To which the other answered,^^ I acn of the true 
l^nrch, apd so assured of my salvaition, tluit though yom 



■m 



153 

would spare my llfe^ yet I vAW not alter roy faith. Mona^ 
gban is a neat little place ; it has a thriving trade in linen^ 
and other articles; — the inhabitants are mostly presby^ 
terians ; their meeting-house is a large and unornamented 
bmlding. I was forcibly struck with the contrast between 
this 'town, and the one I quitted the night before,-*-it was 
AS if one had fallen asleep in London, and awoke in £din-* 
burgh : the accent, looks, and manners of the people 
were so different. Monaghan may be considered the boun- 
dary of the north in this direction, and ht^re its pecu- 
liarities, and strongly-marked Scottish character, begin 
to be cKstinguisbed. I, who am acquainted with tlie Nor- 
thern Irish accent, know it the instant I hear it — an £ng- 
lisbman almost always takes it for Scotch; bi!ithe is deceived, 
it is neither Scotch nor Irish, but a mixture of both, as are 
the people. — A great proportion of the inhabitants of this 
part of the kingdom, are the descendants of Scotchmen, 
settled here after the accessioiiof James the First, to the 
tiirone of England.— -It would appear incredible, how per- 
tinaciously they retain the customs and usages of their 
ancestors, was it not considered, they were settled among 
a people they detested, whose talents they despised, and 
whose religion they abhorred. — In some of the maritime 
counties oi^osite Scotland, the Irish were aln^st entirely 
expelled ; the inhabitants, therefore, retain their Scotch man- 
ners in more primitive freshness. — In Monaghan, sub- 
jugation of the unfortunate native, was equally complete, 
•but expulsion was by no means so general ; the new comers 
to(^ possession only of the valleys and fertile spots, and 
kindly left the native, the bogs and mountains. — By degrees, 
as fe£ur abated, and ranoour subsided, he crept slowly down, 
and the lowly presbyterian, who was now become of con- 
sequence enough to have another to do for him, what he was 
i>nce happy to have to do himself, allowed him to labour 



1^4 

tine land he onoe poisessed, and when his spirit was {maiff 
htoke to his fortunes^ treated his humble hewer of wooo^ 
ac.'i drawer of water^ with something that resembkd kind^ 
JM5S. He still, however, regarded him with distrust ;«~-he 
larely admitted him into the house where he slept^ and 
when he did) a large door, doable locked, sepantedT their 
apartments >— ^< Never trust an EeiishmaOy gude troth he's 
si fool cbap-^'gin ye tah him in at jOur boosoiki, he*el ht 
cot at your sleeve/' — ^The presbyterian farmer often spoke 
thiis^ many genemtions after he liad become an Irishman 
himfielf;-^-In the prepress of time, the two' nations were 
in some degree intermingled ^— Irish vivacity, eiiliv<ened 
Scotch ^raiirity^-- -Irish generosity, blended with Scotch 
frugality, and a third character was formed, better, pro- 
b^ly, that! either, but certainly different from both. — ^But 
sAiU be it remembered, ti>at the intrinsic chakaeter was 
Sootcfh ; the adventitious matter only Irish ;*— the picture 
sitiU retained the mark of the ancient master^ it was the 
oraament and drapery, the gilding and frame only, that 
was the work of a modern hand. The first appearanoe of 
the northern, his shrewd, and penetrating air, his steady 
gait, bis plain and unassuming manner and accent, are aU 
Scotch; it is on cloiser inspection only, as the ciiaracter 
developes itself, as the folds of the drapery become m$ore 
open, that we perceive the chailges, the progress of time, 
the influence of air and of soil, association with the 
.native, and some slight intermixture of blood, have pUfo- 
duced in it# I $hall enter on this subject, however, more 
fuily hereaftiar ; I thought it neceissary merely to touch on 
it here, that the reader may have sense idea of the 
people I propose intifoducing him to. — I give him fair 
wacning^ they are different from his pre*conccived opinioii 
of them*-- -Though lM>rn in Irekrnd, they make few bulk 
to excite his mirthy not do they commit many bfamders, to 



I 



I5& 

gratify his pride by the contemphtion of Ws o^ri superi- 
ority. They are a sagacious, a prudent, and a virtuoud 
people ; not inferior in these respects to the English, <H? 
any nation under the sun — ^They saved Ireland^ to Efig- 
bmd, at a season of great jeopardy and peril ; should &bi6 
erer again be assmled by rebellion, and insurrecrion, their 
talents^ their energies^ and their courage, would, 1 have no 
doubt, be exerted for the same purpose.-* Would to God 
I> could say, I had no doubt« with the same degree of sue* 
cess. — But I do not think this> and therefore it would 

be criminal to say it. -The gaol is a paltry buildings — it 

speaks, however, favourably for the morality of the county— * 
It is too small to hold many prisoners, and tdo weak to 
retain desperate ones. I was looking up at the beam from 
which criminals are suspended, when a man, suddenly bol- 
ting out of the door, asked me if I would hop in and 
have a peep at the prisoners. — I gazed at him, not thd- 
roughly understanding his meaning, — he repeated the 
question," What shall I seethcre?'*Iasked.^^See,'' repeated 
he, in great exultation, (thinking, I suppose, he had got a 
country novice, who would reward him handsomel y,) **yoti 
will see prisoners of all sizes, and two fellows who are t6 
be tried at the next assizes for life and death/* — ^As I had 
nothing better to do, I thought I would step in for art 
instant and have a look at those blood-thirsty felons. The 
turnkey, however, gave them a higher character than they 
deserved — ^tliey were only shop-lifters, and the worst that 
could befal tbem was transportation ; — the number of pri- 
soners did not seem to exceed ten or a dozen; — they had 
almost ^11 yellow and sickly countenances. The men had 
long beards, probably not shaved from their first coming 
into prison. Human misery i^ always a melancholy, often 
a revolting spectacle. — The miseiy of a gaol, beyond all 
others, is squalid, fiMiy^ wretched, and forbkidi^g; yet 



156 

vritfain these djreaiy abodes of vice and wretchedness, do 
our humane )^ws immure the youth who is forming, as well 
as the man who is formed ; the fool who is cheated^ as well 
as the knave who cheats ; the unfortunate who owes a few 
pounds^ as well as the ruffian, who deprives a fellow crea- 
ture of life, A short time afterwards, as I was standing 

in the street, a man asked charity ;— I offered him a penny. 
*^ I ^anna tak it;" said he, '^gentlefolks aways gie me siller," 
I was driving^ him from me in some anger, when a person 
.near me told me he was an ideot. — It may be North-coun- 
try idiotism ; but it i^ very like South-country wisdom, to 
refuse halfpence and take silver ; and to stick so close to 
me that I was obliged to comply with the requisition. One 
should thinjc that ideots are as much respected in Ireland 
as in Turkey, where they are looked on as inspired; — 
there is hardly a country town, in which there are not two 
or three real or pretended ones, who jest with the inhabi- 
tants in rude familiarity, and freely 'enter their habitations. 
Tliis, perhaps, is the strongest proof that can be adduced, 
of Ireland being yet but in a moderately advanced state 
of civilization. It is evidently a remnant of the custom of 
barbarous times, when every ^castle had its dwarf, and every 
great man his jester. The poor wretch who addressed me, 
has free access to the kitchen of Colonel Leslie, (one of 
the county members) when he is at Glaslough. — The 
colonel sdmetiraes gives him shoes, stockings, and other 
articles of wearing apparel. — About a year ago his stock 
was nearly exhausted, and the colonel was not arriving to 
replace them : — he set otf early one morning. Without 
giving any intimation of where he was going, walked to 
Dublin, crossed over to Holyhead, and from that begged 
his way to London; where, though an ideot, he had sen&e 
*nough to find out his friend's lodgings. On his return 
by Liverpool he put his foot into the first vessel that was 



feady to sail for Ireland j-— the captain refused him a psus^ 
sage and turned him out, — he kneeled down upon the beach 
and prayed for curses on it, and all that were in it. Great 
powers are attributed to these curses, by persons even above 
the rank of the vulgar, and what would be denied to charity^ 
is often given from the apprehension of them.— -By one 
of those singular coincidences, which sometimes occur to 
strengthen superstition, the vessel was cast away, and A 
number of those on board perished : — the triumphant Idiot^ 
returned in safety to Monaghan, by the way of Scotland. 
Since I am on this subject I shall relate a short story a gen- 
tleman told me in Dublin : he had taken his passage in a 
Liverpool packet, whicji was to sail the same evening. 
He did not omit taking his dinner, and still less 
taking his punch; he thought drunken sickness would 
prevent sea* sickness, and that to shorten the passage, it 
would be a wise plan to get more than half seas over 
before he began the voyage: — he sallied forth after it 
was dark, and, by good luck, took the wrong side of the 
bay J when the mistake was discovered, it was too late to 
correct the error, as the vessel had sailed with his baggage 
and servant on board : ** Never \Vas there such an escape, 
Sir,** said he, " nor can I ever be sufficiently thankful to 
Heaven, for interposing witli'such a miracle to save me. — 
I that knfew the way to the Pigeon-house, as well as to my 
wife's bed-room,'to miss it that terrible night, of all nights in 
the year."^i— ** Then the vessel was lost, I suppose," said I. — » 
*' Bump she came against a rock," he replied, " and went 
down like a ' mill-stone.'^---^ — My friend's piety seems fully 
equal to his understanding ; what he attribute^ to pr<yvi- 
dence^ a less devout man might lay to the door of* Wh%$key^ 
The country about Monaghan is beautiful and highly cul- 
tiviated.— Here are none of those dreary mountains,' so 



us 

cmwnoti in other parts of die North of Ireland ; who8» 
•uUeii grandeur compensates not, in my estimatioDf 
for thek look of desolation; nor is the eye wearied by 
the m<motonotts view of a continued plain^ which, 
however, like an untroubled sea, it may at first fill u9 
wi& admiration, soon ej^esses by its uniformity^ and 
palls^ by its rich and cloying^ sweetness. The ground is 
)tr<dc^5 by gentle eminences, covered with the verdure 
of springs intermingled with this yellow honours of 
autuinn — on the top of several, are planted tufts of trees, 
which cast an air of reverence around, and like the sacred 
groves of the Druids, seem the sweet abodes of piety and 
innocence > nor are the valleys less ddightfuL— I wandered 
through a sweet sequestered one ; enamelled with the 
Primrose and Daisy, sCnd spread witl^ a carpet of nature's 
ioftest green. Often I was oblig d to stop, to remove the 
bramble, and long-matted grass which obstructed mypath; nor 
&d I regret the interruption, which detained me in tins norths 
km Elysiuro.-^-I could not forbear contrasting its peaceful 
stillness witli the turbulent deeds which had often disturbed 
ks repo$e.*-^-Tiie honeysuckle breathed its fragrance on my 
senses ; t listened to the Lark's sweet notes as it carolled 
M high ; I looked upwards on the blue expanse of Heaven, 
Imd downwards on the chrystal stream, whicli, sparkling with 
ilun-beam^ meandered at my feet. — Alas! the shrieks of death 
had often drowned the sound of melody, the steam cf 
war had often dimmed that bright and glorious sun, and tor- 
tents of human blood, had polluted that clear and pellucid 
ftlxeam.— I was told on leaving the house, that dinner wmdd 
be ready at foiur o'clock,— -as I knew they expected more com^* 
pany, and tliat punctuality is not an Irish virtue, I allowed 
them till five, at which hour I exactly attended, expecting 
|» have Hamt as ready for me, as I was for it«-*^n tbi^, how<» 



lim 

cver^ I reckoned wl^iout my hott, or ratW ivi^hout my JbuM^ 
e&s ^---^she had been in the kitch^, Jinking, boiUog, fund 
€t€umgf and had just slept up stairs to qqoI an4 dress herself^ 
I spent the intervening time in the 9hop, wbicJi, by the b]^ 
was an apothecary's. I tumbled over ^^macy's Lexicoiif 
ai^ looked into the drawers and bottles, for amusement mip 
— *A hungry m^n ba^ no Qcca^lon {ot medicine, nor does be 
much relish the sight of it. — Senna and Salts, ape poor sub^ 
4|titut^s for Salmon fish, and roast Beef, which wa9 what was 
promised me >-^-no wonder I qQitted tbem witdi alaority the 
instant I was summoned to dinner.'>'*»Be$ide our wortb/ 
Apoth^6ary, who, if I may judge by his jolly figure, leUdies. 
medicine, no more than I do, two other gentlemen w«i!Q 
{^esent^ whom I took for clergymen : one of them was asked 
to say grace,-r— which he did with great apparent devotioni 
v^-even a hungry man could not have thought it too loii^ ; 
thougM a fashionable one might have objected to the want 
<kf indifierence with which it was delivered^ I found, by 
their conversation, they were not clergymken, but sh<^ 
Iceepers, in Clones, a small town^ about eight ipiles from 
Mom^han :-^^though not very abundant in worldly wealth, it 
seems it is prodigious rich in Gospel pace. — ^In Ninevahor 
Gpfmorrab, [ don't recollect which, five rigiueou^ perspp^ 
pould not be found to save it from destnictiMi :«— beore th# 
inhal^kai^ set judgments by &m and water, ihUv>s o| 
aalt, and lakes of sulphur, at defiance-^«-fpr they are all 
)righteous» (»r methodii^ts— which is the same things Thii 
above-mentioned two, were mild and unassvming men-<>:' 
no person could have suspected them to be either Scotebi^en 
or Irishmen ; their manners and accent wereentirelyEng^b? 
^«— I understand, the same similarity is to be. found amosi^ 
all the inhabitants of Clones. * The reason of this, upon a 
Uttle £e3Gction> will be obvio]i|s^-«a number of tb^ P^c^^^kf 



ISO 

ets are KngUshmen ; — Methodists hear moiie of their pi^eacti^ 
ers than oth^ sects-^-for not to mention Sunday, which itf 
entirely passed in preachings and praying, they have ser- 
mons two or three times a week, and associate more with 
them in private.--— The Methodists of Clones regard Dn 
Coke, (tiie great Apostle of their sect) with peculiar reve- 
rence-^— he visits them frequently, and both in conversation, 
and his works, has mentioned them in terms of the highest 
praise.-— It is natural, therefore, they should acquire mudi 
of his manner, nor (when the liigh opinion they entertain of 
him is considered) would it be very unnatural if they eveo 
gtwoe to acquire it-*^in<the hopes, that with the short hair^ 
combed sleek behind the ears, the sanctified* look, and musi-> 
cal tones, they would likewise possess the piety and godli-< 
ness of tlieir reverend teacher.—- <It is far from ray intention^ 
however, to talk lightly of Methodists, or to undervahie 
their labours.— They have been productive of mucb benefit^ 
by the introduction of religion among the most uncivilized 
members of the community, to whom they have given a 
decency of deportment^ a decorum of manner, and freedoni 
from gross vice, which laws could never liave 'effected*— 
The Edinburgh reviewers lament the rapid progress of Me-* 
thodism in England — I am not of their opinion.-— I ecm^ 
aider it a blessing, and not an evil. — Itmaybeentiiusiasnii^ 
it may be fanaticism, and its tendency in its remote conse<> 
queiices may (as they say) be licentiousness and diaorder-i«»' 
should it ever terminate in these, a remedy wiH doubtless 
be found in the ever-flowing streat^ of human afiairs ;-— but- 
to reject its present benefit, from such consiileratidn^> appeara 
tome as unwise ^ not to eat our dinner to^day^ because 
we may be hungry to morrow. — If religion is necessary to 
the people of England, metbodism is necessary^ for if they 
had not th^t^tlbey would have none at all )---their eyes must 



1«1 

be dazsled, their senses captivated^ their hearts touched, and 
their imaginations inflamed — to address their judgments is as 
absurd as to ask a blind man's opinion of colours.-— As 
long as the clergy of the established Church dose and yawn 
over sober reason, and cold morality, they will have heedless 
auditors, and thin congregations.— *The people will go else-^ 
where for their religion, and frequent Methodist meetings, 
or Jewish synagogues, as whim and caprice may determine. 
—In this country, the beneficial effects of methodism were 
evident during the late rebellion— *with very few exceptions. 
Melodists took no part in it, or in the party disputes that 
preceded, and accompanied it:--^*their kingdom was of a 
higher and better world; in the contemplfttioo ot which, 
the paltry squabbles of men, the pitiful objects and wretched 
4e«i«s, of these poor helpless insects of an hour, wen swal- 
lowed and absorbed. 

Alter sitting a reasonable time I left those gentlemen over 
tlieir bottle,' and went to take another walk : — though metho- 
4ist8, they were no anchorites, but partook freely of the good 
tUiigs which were set before them. — ^Punch was what they 
drank, thou^ wine was on the table: I suspect more for 
cmament than use: 13ce the guinea given the Vicar of 
Wakefield's daughters, it was not to be broken. — When I 
returned I found the scene shifted — the Methodists, and 
vvhiskey bottle, had disappeared from the stage, and given 
|4ace to 'gay youAg ladies, with sandy locks and freckled 
faces ; glitt^ing china, and a statdy tea-urn, wAh pyra- 
mids dt muffin, biscuit, and slim-cake. — ^Doctor Johnson 
«iqrs, let an efHcuce dine, or sup where he may, could he 
transport himself with a wish, he would always breakfast 
JQ Scodand. — in like inaaner i would always dibose to 
4rink teain Ireland.*—! passed a delightfial evening, though, 
%at times, to royshame be it spdcen, I was ftenx fidyng asleep. 
«— That would hawe been unpardimable in the society of 



162 

youth and beauty ; I, therefore, got up, walked about thie 
room, drank my tea as strong as mustard, and took snuJDT 
out of an old lady*s box ; but with very indifferent success ; 
"^-yaWning gained upon me, and as it is well known , to be 
catching, extended itself to the jaws of some of the misses. 
-*To travel all the way from London, only to set ladies 
yawning, was mortifying : luckily for me, however, one of 
them was anxious to hear a particular account of the riots at 
the opening of Covent-Garden. I gratified her curiosity 
as well as I could ; and as action is better than narration^ 
sung several songs, and danced the O. P. dance, to the 
great entertainment of my fair audience ; who very fairly 
concluded, that though the people of London were richer 
and greater, they were not a bit wiser than themselves. 
— Praise, I suspect, is gratifying to every man ; nor does it 
lose any of its charms, when it issues from ruby lips, and 
coral teeth. — ^The pleasure I communicated returned, (as 
such pleasure always does) with tenfold usury to myself, and 
banished all thoughts of sleep. — My rehearsal of the O. P. 
dance was as effectual a cure for it in me, as the actual 
performance ever was, to Mr. Harris, Mr. Kemble, or any 
other of the heroes, or heroines of that theatre. — ^We sat 
down to a pFentiful supper at ten o'clock, to which, notwith- 
standing the excellent meal we had made at tea, we did 
ample justice : — ^we ate and drank, and though last, not 
least, laughed heartily. — Good cheer is a great promoter of 
good humour, and either inspired us with good jokes, or, 
what was just as well, made us laugh at bad ones.*— I suspect 
that ours were of the latter descriptioii; and as I cannot give 
the reader the sauce which made them so relishing to us, I 
shall not trouble him with them. I got up the next morn- 
ing, entirely recovered from the fatigue of my journey, and 
as the family had not assembled for breakfast, amused 
myself with writing the following pailiculars of it ;-«-The 



163 

a. • " • — '' • • • 

istance from Drogheda to Monaghan is about fifty-four 

miles ; the roads about CuUen and Ardee, were smooth and 
level ; for the remainder of the way, rough and mountai- 
nous, but well made and in good repair. The fare was 11. 
2s. Irish, which is nine-pence less than a guinea, and cannot 
be considered unreasonable. — Were I again to travel in it, 
however, I would prefer giving something more to have 
four, instead of six inside passengers. — This is a great 
nuisance, and should never be allowed in a mail coach. — It 
was a good and strong vehicle, lined with grey cloth ; the 
windows, (as I found to my sorrow) in perfect repair ; I 
could have wished there had not been a sound pane in either 
of them, even though the pain^ of my rheumatic fellow 
traveller had been quadrupled by it. We changed coachmen 
only twice ; they seemed steady and obliging men, — they 
got ten-pence from each passenger, with which they were 
perfectly satisfied. The change of the silver coin in Ireland, 
has been as unfavourable to the coachmen, as the flight of 
gold in England has been tojjthe lawyers. Where they had 
a thirteen before, they now only have ten-pence, as the latter 
only gets a pound note, where he formerly got a guinea. 
— The guard was as well clad as an English one, with a 
greater degree of good humoured and ofiicious civility. I 
gave him twenty-pence on leaving the coach ; he took leave 
of me with great politeness, regretting he had not the 
pleasure of my company further down. — We travelled nearly 
at the rate of five miks an hour including stops, which I 
think, in a heavy-laden coach, and on an uneven road, was 
fair travelling. — More particularly as an Irish coach stops 
longer for meals, and is more tedious in changing horses 
than an English one. — In the former of these respects the 
Irish is a much more civil vehicle than the English.— You 
are not obliged to deyour your food like a cannibal, and at 
length to run away like a debtor pursued by bailiffs. — ^Tou 

M 2 



U4 

f 

.are allowed a decent time for dioxier } and should the good» 
ness of the wine induce you to with to extend it for a few 
minutes, the guard is seldom inexorable. His majesty's 
mail can wait, you may finish your m^I at leisure. — I recol- 
lect once at Shrewsbury breakfasting with the compaiqr s£ 
the Holyhead coach; there were several ladies and gentler- 
men ; the men, as usual, eat, drank, and helped Uiemselvei^ 
without attending to the ladies : a good-hMmoured Swis% 
shocked at this Enj^ish proceeding, was all pcditeness, pourr 
ing out tea, and handing about toast and muffin; his tongue 
all the while going like the clapper of a mill^ — he was vei^f 
jocular on the English method of preparing coffee : just as 
he had a ciq> manufacture^ to his mind, the fatal horn was 
sounded, and the instant afteriRards the guard made his 
appearance: — the poor foreigner looked aghast, and instead 
of gulping down a few mouthfuls of the precious fluid, lost 
bis time in appealing to the conqpany whether he had eat a 
mouthful, and in swearing he would not stir without his 
breakfast. — The guard said ^^ might sit breakfastinig there 
till do<»nsday, or the day aim, if he liked it, but iat his 
part he would set off that moment.-— It was not the least 
part of the mortification of pauvre aumsieur, to have the 
attendant bowing to him, with — ^' I hope you wont foiget 
the waite]^ Sir?" — '' Forget you !*' exclaimed he in a cag^ 
''cot d — n you, I will never forget youj^nor de guard, nor d^ 
house,-^- nor de nation," (in a lower tone as if speakii^ to 
himself <r)-r-He thenb^gan whistling Mallbrook withgreitf 
earnestness, and, until dinner put him into good humoay^ 
was as inattentive to the ladies as any Englisbmaa could 
have been. — The great dispatch of an English mail, some*- 
times has great advantages,-*-many men travel whyose 
business, do doubt, does not admit of delay ; but they 
certainly are the smallest number. — A large proportiou .<rf 
JEogUsbmea travel for the sake of mere locfomodeni they 



1«S 

|p>p^st haste, stanntf themselves on {he rotd, fumfe, mifre^ 
and run the risk ci their own neckji, as well as of this wIsM 
animals who draw them, merely to arrhre at a place where 
tbeyhave no business, and from which tliey return, perhaps^ 
the next day with equal rapidity.-- -*11ie Irishman travek t^ 
get rid of his business only, and seldom to get rid of him- 
self; he is more gay, moreimly, than the Englishman | 
«~his mind is more cheerful, and, therefore, his body is lest 
active : — in every situation and rank of life, he makes less 
use of exercise, as a matter of mere amusement— *he 
^lyoys. the present moment, the present spot, the present 
company.— An Englishman enjoys none of these, — ^unfor- 
tunately he expects too much of Iifr,-^-his real blessings 
are disregarded, because tibey fall short of Imaginary 
ones,— he lives only in thefotore, in the distant, in the 
absent — in the dreams of hope, in the visions of ideal 
bappiness*-*-in the country he sees h^ in town --in the 
fertile valley on the craggy mountain; amidst the peaceful 
security of his fam]ly*-*-stt Ateloomydesert, among barba^ 
rous nations, in the sound^W the cataract*^ roar—- heoftea 
is where she teas, he never comes where she is» Iq 
givii^ an account of my visit to the gad, I forgot to relata 
an anecdote which my conduetor told me ;— ^two of his best 
chaps were tried, and condemiied at the last asstses^ for 
stealing pigs and homes >-rone of them was a t^t cock| 
and died game j the other was dunghSi, to make use of the 
elegant lai^guaige of my itender-hearted companion.—- As no 
^executioner coidd be found, tlie latter was pardoned QH 
condition pf haaging the othen-^When Uie two friends met 
each other on the fatal morning, ihey aaluted with uncere^ 
monioiuB ^greeting :< — ^ Yqu ha brought your pigs to a fine 
market,'' :aaid the hax^man^ probably without ^meaning to 
be witty.— «<^ I tUnk you ha brought your aintoa better;'* 
replied the oth^; ^< but you were always gode at drivii^ a 



^ 



m 

))arg«iii; tak care that the devil is'nt too hard for yofa at 
lust : wait till I'm caijdd^" however^ cpntipued he, ^^ and 
then you shall ha my shoes, for I see your aim are none of 
^e best ;— •*gude troth its plain ye ha-na been long in office 
by your beingso ill shod. 



CHAR XV. 

COOTBHILI,. 

After breakfast I prepared for an excursion to Coote- 
hill, a town about fourteen miles distant, where the mother 
of an old acquaintance resided.*— There is no coach goes 
this road, and *as the weather continued fair, I resolved 
upon a more primitive mode of travelling — namely, walk- 
ing: — the worthy compounder of medicine objected strongly 
to such an exertion — it woulii*||ive me a fever to a certainty, 
he said, and be the death of me-— and, besides, what would 
the people say---they would be talking. — "That they would," 
said I, " whether I go or stay — whether I walk or roll in a 
chariot, — There are many diseases peculiar to Ireland, 
brother Doctor, but I dare say you never found a locked j^xo 
in the number.'^ — He wanted me very much to take his faorse, * 
but that was impossible — he was not only a Pharmacopblist 
but Accoucheur, or, to make use of the concise and glitter- 
ing inscription of a sign-post. Surgeon, Apothecary, and 
Man Midwife. — A Man Midwife in the country, without 
his horse, is as useless as a fiddler without a fiddle, or a 
general without his army — he- might as well want htf 
forceps, or his instrument bag, or any other BA6,^or ig>- 
pendage to his profession.-— I therefore declined the offer 



^'• 



m 

of this friendly son of Galen^ with many thanks, and Imving 
Jaken leave of him, proceeded oi^ my pilgrimage, with a 
change of linen in my pocket, and as a pilgrim should, 
with a staff in my hand.— A little distance from Monaghan, 
the road winds through a beautiful glen, watered by a silver 
brook, whose gurgling noise inspires pleasing sensations, 
And shadowed by rows of lofty trees, whose thick branched 
exclude the fervent rays of the sun. — I seated myself on a 
large stone, and, for want of something better to do, con* 
templated my visage in th^ mirror that floated before me;-«- 
I ran no risk of sharing the fate of Narcissus ; what with 
the sun beams by day, and potations of whiskey by night, 
my countenance was as inflamed as an Alderman's at a 
city feast. — An old beggar woman wl^p passed, was kinder 
to me, however, dian my looking glass. — ** Ah ! bless your 
tweet face," said she, *^ will you give an old woman some* 
thing?" — There was no resisting so jttdidom an appeal — I 
gave her some trifle, and as it was time for me to prosecute 
my journey, we parted, muAially satisfied with each other* 
—The road was excellent, particularlyfor foot passengers-— 
it was hard and dry likearock---formed, in some parts, of small 
pebbles of variegatedV^olours, and in others of a deep red co- 
lour — my spirits were raised by the fineness of the day, and 
iixe luxuriance^ of the landscape, which now swelling into 
eminences, and again deepening into valleys, winding 
round hills, or following the meandering stream, ever 
changing, but ever beautiful, surrounded and accompanied 
me. — I sung, I' composed, I recited; I daresay, the 
country people who passed me took me for a madman, or 
a strolling player, — no wonder, therefore, that the mile-stones 
flew unnoticed by me, and that I was filled with astonish- 
ment, on looking down on the village.of Rockcury, from 
the hill over it, to find I had walked upwards of eight Irish 
miles. — This is a poor little place, contabiing about a 



1« 

Mxeen mdiffisrhit hoHSes^^-'-driiddtig diust be higkty pr&^ 
here ; for oat of the dozen, five or iix were ^oblie ones.*-^*! 
^rent into one, which, from its appearanee, Ijudg^rdthebest^ 
and called for hidf a pint of wine, and some water.-*-«>I iras 
shewn into a room, with the sns^ of which I had no reason 
to be dissatrafied $ — these was no eeiHng, aad as it extended 
to die top of the house, the wvtUng was bare-**a eontpk 
of beds were in one e<H«er> kxHrered with rugs in pfause of 
^ks^^'^the floor Ivas ekrthern, nehher so hard, ncnr so ^y, 
as the foad I jnst had qnitted-^<-the ikmitore was of a 
{nece with the ajNutment^ a;nd seemed all iia disordeff*-'- 
Ihete had been A dUnce there Ae n^ht before, ibtt mud told 
me^ as an excuse for the Kttered state of the ioo» v ^ A 
^nde h««, mj goo^ gurl/' said I f ^^ wfaac kind of Cjfdops's 
were th^y to choose this PolypheoHis's den, when th^ had 
the green fields about them^ whefethey might have tr^qied 
it, lUie so mfflny fkiries by the light of the aM3ioii."-^Tfaeir 
country people were ife sky^hopf^ she rath^ sulki^ said^ 
Aey had enough of giMn Aeldi in day tane^ and tke«€fore 
daneed in Ae house, like civil christians^ wi& good candle- 
light.*--*! sat down at a large deal table^ which bote evi- 
dent mu'ks of die orgies of th^ comity Momigfaan Bikn 
chants. — i poured out a glass of (he wine, in no vesj good 
humour — I expected to find it half whiskey*—! was naost 
agreeably disappointed:— rl never would wish to drink better 
wine, « nor did I ever, in a cofiee house in Lond(Hi, di^ink 
any so good>— The distance from Hookoury to Cootehill 
is five miles— *it was near three o'clock, and as I knew the 
lady, to whose house I was going, would wait dinner for me, 
it was necessary to be expeditious — the wine likewise 
quickened my appetite—-*! walked at a good tfo«nd pace 
— -'Dobody, ! am sur^ could have suspected I cama to make 
observaticMi^ on the cofcmtry.**-The sliady groves of Ihm* 
son's £rove> iVavedin f^<K)my grandeur oa m|yleft hand; 



tiie house and deme^s&e of Fremeunt^ in gay anci smiling 
beauty^ roee <k> my r%iit«-**I loojted neiiiier on one side not 
4iie .other-^I looked stindght forward — to the flesh-pots of 
CooiehiU.— -Vl^h^i I was a little distance from the town^ 
a voice from behind hf^loed tome^ ^ How far to CootehiU }** 
I jnade no aiower — fi was repeated-^--^^ I say^ Mr. how far XA 
Cdotehill?*' — "Vow had bett»," I replied^ ^*Kft upyomeyes 
and lodk attt^andsave yourself the <iro«d)le of asrking questicms •** 
*--'* Nalive of the pkH^^ Sir, IjJMr«tme/*~*^ Of what cons^« 
qiienct^ mygood fellow, is it to yo^^* said I, ^* whether lam a 
nadre Jiere or tot}'"-*^' Ask pardon, Sk ; am a stranger in 
tifese hlt« partS) and Want to make out the best . 
tnn*^ always like to sleep warm at nights."-— ^^ Yotr 
«eem toUke1otmtdiwarm»" I replied^ ^^agreati&oatinsuch 
weaiber must be ratber annoying to wa& in/" — " Wager, 
Wager, Sit\ two <rf my friends kft Monaghan in a chaise, 
i»ime time I did,«*-^id0ni»ed rumbling machine, andspa* 
vined faorses,^-betted rump and do2en, woirid be in Ckxrte* 
bill, and order dSnuer before they eame up, — win my wi^er 
easily^ ai!e not y«t in aight/' — " I dare say they are not,*^ 
said I, *^ buft^u did'nt bet to cairy weights, I suppose ?«***• ' 
you might as well have tb|ownyour bundle into your friend'a 
<draJse.''*-^This seemed a little to abate his'efikmteiy,and he 
oantknied for some mon^nts ailent, though he stiU walked 
ahmg Side of nie.^'^^^Foder his great coat he wore a light 
green oue widi bhek watgtooat and small clothes, and wUte 
eottxm stodimgs^ whieh boite evident rmxk& at the dust of 
the read ; he ImkI a bundie tied up in a handkeix^hief, uriiich 
he earned on a atkk ov^r^his i^hoidders. — I set him downift 
mymindforadancdng'4naiter, puppet-show man, or play«'.*'»- 
^^ The eoufitiy people," he resumed, ^^are denmeHami brutes 
in ihisiiere places I siqpt into a eabinei I think yoacHUit,and 
askedfor^ glass of water;— ^tbe stupid brute brought me a 
iifi§giii Ml«f InMttarmillu"-^*^^ I daresay, iirilow tmveHer,^ 



said I^ lau^ngi ^^ the noggin suited your mouth fuHy ns 
well as the glass, and is what you have been most accus- 
tomed to ; I think you owe thanks, however^ to the man 
who gave you milk, when you only asked for water/' — ^' In 
England, Sir, a man always gets what he calls for,**--nobody 
pretends to think for you th^re ; but these poor areatures art 
always cramming you with kindness ; and then they hsVe 
such a lingo that a pardon can't understand the half of whsk 
they say/' — ^* Their ac$;ent, (I replied, losing all patience) 
is a natural one, and will, therefcffe, never be disagreeable 
to any man of sense or reason ; but your's is an affected 
one, equally ridiculous and contemptible, — you are no 

• « 

Englishman, nor can you ever persuade any pers<Hi that you 
are ; — if you wish to counterfeit one, imitate his virtues, 
and not his defects ; — imitate his sobriety, attention to 
business, and love of truth ; but don't meddle with his 
superciliousness and arrogance ; they are bad enough in 
the original, but they are still more dispicable at second 
hand. — The Irishman, who, because he has lived a few 
months among Englishmen, affects to adopt their narrow 
and illiberal prejudices, who despises as uncivilized his 
untravelled countrymen, is a more contemptible character, 
than those he thinks most contemptible : — you have <^en, 
I dare say, thought it hard in England, that your accent 
and country should be treated with derision ; yet you, the 
instant you arrive initaretnean and foolish enough to imagine 
that lowering your» country's consequenjoe ad(k to your 
own. — Leave me, I wish to have no further conversation 
with you. — I quickened my pace, and he shewed no mcli* 
nation to follow me. — I learned afterwards that he had lived 
about eighteen months in England; and was a journeyman 
printer. — I have mentioned above that the lady to whom I 
was going, was the mother of an old and intimate friend, 
—he was indeed a friend, such as is seldom to be found. 



I 



^-His Idndness had gladdened life in its gay, had cheered it 
in its melancholy^ and sustained it in its sinking moments 
— he was now no more. — In the flower of youth, in the 
enjoyment of comfort, he had been summoned from this 
life, — from the banquet he scarcely had tasted, from the 
cup that was just raised to his lips, — from his mother^s 
house, where last I had seen him, the abode of plenty and 
happiness, to the co][d mansions of the grave ! — She received 
me with pleasure ; — She strove to tell me so, but her heart 
was full. — Welcome was in her eye, but she' could not 
speak it with her tongue ; — she made the attempt, however, 
but her words were drowned in her sobs and her tears, — She 
looked on me, but she thought of her son, — of the days 
we had passed together, our convivial nights. — The years 
that elapsed were forgot, and her son seemed to stand 
before her in the person of his friend. I strove to console 
her, but I wanted consolation myself ;— twelve years had 
rolled their heavy course since I had seen her last on this 
spot ; — what changes had since taken place in her life and 
my own.- —The dreams of youth were vanished, the brain- 
spun web of romantic happiness was broken, and the 
flowers, with which fancy graced its border, torn away. 
—This, perhaps, is but ideal misery, — her's, alas ! was 
real; — she was old, she was solitary, she was a widow, she 
was childless ;-*-one of her sons had died abroad, in a 
distant land, among strangers, in the island of Malta. — The 
other, he whom I knew, — at home,-«-on the eve of mar- • 
riage, in her arms ;-- :-she closed the eyes of him who she 
hoped would have closed her's, and she had not one rela^n 
remaining in the wide world ; — like the North American 
chief she might sorrowfully' exclaim, — " There is not a 
drop of my blood runs in the veins of any human being." 
—After some time she grew more composed,-— and we 
passed the evening in melancholy^ but not unpleasing 



172 

eonTersatioii. — ^We talked of dmes that were Umg past^ and 
•f persons I had once well known— there was not one 
family among whcHn great changes had not taken place ; 
and so much I fesar does misery predominate over happi- 
ness^ that not even in one of them was the change for the 
better^ — many whom I left children were ^rown up to men 
and women^ and had tnmed out 31 ; many whom f left old 
and infirm^ were alire still, a bnrden tp others, as weK as 
Aemselves ; — ^while the healthy and vigorous, in the hloom 
if youth and fullness of manhood, had been snatched 
away, and now mouldered in the tomb. — TJiere had been 
eonsiderable emigration to America, a desire of change had 
tak^a some^ poverty and drunkenness more.*>->-This bitter 
tioe had made great progress among the youth, and several 
immiising young men' were destroyed by it. — I begged 
Mw> " ■ ' ■ to contrast her' situation with that of their 

wietdied paresrts who mourned worse than the death of 
IbUr Bons, — the death of their good name, of their talents, 
rf their virtues, of thenr respectability ; — whose vile boffies 
Wiilced abroad, while the souls, which should have enncAled 
lhem> were shnvelled, and sunk, and degraded into idiots 
ism, by the abuse of ardent spirits, which, was I a believer 
isa the doctrine dt the Manichseans, I sliould suppose some 
BdMe^^Ieni deity had showered on the earth for the destruc- 
tion of mam. She told me several stories of individuals^ it 
iM>aId be impn^eT to mention here, — nor is it necessary. 
Misery was the Alpha and Omega, the beginning and end- 
ing of them all^-^misery is an often-to»ki tale, and well may 
it be so, for it is the history of man. 

** 'Gainst the foul fiend what can relief anbrd ? 
•^ Oor bed be climbs^ participates oar board ; 
*• fly Bn we may o*er earth's extensive round, 
** He follows still, and at our heels is found. 
*' ¥tom •Ins fell looks eadi J0y a blast acquires, 
" And life itself beneath his grasp expires.** 



( 



173 



CHAP. XVI. 



COOTEBILL. 



COOTEHILL, as the name implies, is situated cm a hill, 
iJong the ridge of which it runs for nearly half a imle* 
The street is wide and spacious^ and the houses good« 
«^It is in the county of Caran^ but near the extremi^ 
where it touches the county of Mona^an. — Cootehiil is on the 
estate, and takes its name, from the noble family of Coote, 
which is now extinct^ by the death of the kte Earl of B 
-i-^-^ — ^Tfae estate was bequeathed, by his lordship's will, to 
his natural son, S. C , Esq. and handsome leglicies were 
left to his odier natural children, of whom he had as long a 
list as king Priam. — He was a decendant of Sir C* C ' , a 
puritan officer who came over to this country in the year 
16S0. Lord B inherited none of the austerity oc 

movosoiess of his reverend ancestor— he was a man of the 
highest refinement, and most perfect elegance of manners % 
at one period he was the very mirror of fashion, ^^ Th' 
observ'dof all observers !" — though the latter part of his 
life was passed in great seclusion, and his name was almost 
fiocgot in those circles where once he shone the gayest of the 
gay ^-^He was educated at Genev|i, where he imbibed liberal 
ideas of government, little in unison witli his courtier-like 
appeunmce, and the excessive ^nd almost dazzling polish <rf 
his manners ; — he spent several years abroad, and returned 
to Ireland, a finished petit maitre. Accustomed to the elegan-* 
cies of the continent, he could ill brook the roughness of 
*" IrLdi manners ; their rude, though hearty welcomes, and above 
;all Uieir everlasting drunkenness. — He used to express the 
tttm^t bocimy and dread, of the Irbh Hpttentots^ as he 



174 

termed the jovial generation of gentlemen, who then lived in 
Ireland. — In speaking of the county of Cavan^ of which he 
was a native, he thus characterized it. — ^* It is all acclivity 
and declivity, without the intervention of one horizontal 
plain, the hills are all rocks, and the people are all savages.'' 
^Sdtaething of this excessive refinement, which shrunk 
like the sensitive plant from the touch of vulgarity ; perhaps 
was real, it is probable more was affected — he delighted in 
resembling a Frenchman, nor could he be paid a higher 
compliment, than to take him for one. In the middle of 
one of his earliest speeches in the Irish House of Lords, he 
hesitated, he stammered like a country miss, and at length 
stopt short. — Bashfulness is not a French vice, nor was it 
his lordship's — his audience were at a loss to understand 
what all this blushing meant — be thus explained it — ^he 
had been so long out of the kingdom — had associated so 
little with any British person ; that he was really, ' he was 
sorry, he was ashamed, but he could not express himself ifi 
English, if the noble Lords would favour him so far as to 
allow him to speak in French. — ^The noble Lords did 
favour him, but it ^as with a loud laugh at such miserahle 
affectation. For once he was ashamed, and ever afterwards, 
(when in the house) spoke English like his neighbours. — A 
short time before, he had made a similar display to an old 
barrow-woman who sold potatoes, ** Pray my good woman, 
(said he) is dis de vay to Ca-peZ-street?" — ^' And is it a praty 
you want?" my lord, said she, looking up at him with contempt, 
^d thrusting one into his h^nd; ^^go home and ait it, it will 
be of more service to you, than frogs or soup-maigre."— - 
Notwithstanding this affectation (which as the fault of early 
youth probably subsided with it) Lord B — — — — possessed 
great personal courage ; though like many other of h» 
. shimng qualities, it was often rendered ridiculous by its 
misapplication^ his duel with Lord T >■■» .was a strong 






175 

• 

proof of the singular mixture of diseased feeling, atid erro- 
neous reasoning which characterised all his actions.~*He 
was remarkably temperate in eating and drinking. — Seldom 
exceeded a pint of Claret, and drank tea strong and green, 
in as great quantities as Doctor Jolmson himself. — His 
ruling passion, was an inordinate love of women — to which 
he sacrificed every consideration of character, morality, 
and even humanity. — Like Mark Antony, had he the 
world, he would have lost it, and, perhaps, not 
thought it ill lost. — ^It is not my intention to follow him 
through the long catalogue of his seductions; many 
of which have found their way into Magazines, and 
other periodical publications. — ^The first of them was the 
most black and nefarious of any, — the name of the female 

was Miss D , daughter to a Roman Catholic on his 

own estate. — I do not sufficiently recollect the particulars 
to mention them here ; but I believe they are tolerably 
faithfully recorded in the Adventures of a Guinea. — She 
lived many years in a state of helpless and melancholy 
idiotism. — I have heard some of the old inhabitants of 
Cootehill say, they have seen her, weltering in the little 
garden of the cottage where she was kept, with no other 
covering than an apron before her, tearing up the earth with 
her hands, and swallowing it in mouthfuls. — His lordship^ 
married a sister of the late Duke of L , who bore him 
several daughters, but no son. — As this was a match of 
convenience, rather than affection, he soon got tired of her 
society, and leaving her in B F — : — with his chil- 
dren, went over to England, in quest of some connexion, la 
which his heart could have a share. — So strangely are we 
formed, and so near a kin are our virtues to our vices, that 
Lord B , 's excessive refinement and delicacy, and 
his excessive admiration of them in others, were the causes 
of his worst actions — he shrunk with horror from the 
grossness of mercenary prostitution j from the touch of n 



17« 

tetti$Xt who had even onee admitted the emtoi^Teg o£ aootbef 
xnan.*-*Tbe objects of tDodern gallantly, therefore, high kept 
women of the towo) opera dancersi and actresses, wero 
beneath his attent]on-«-youth and beauty, loveliiie$3 and 
innocence, only could excite it — like Satai\ he contemplai- 
ed paradise, and only entered it to destroy.— «»Chance WHS 
so far favourable to him on this journey, that it shewed him 
an object he could love— perhaps ijie only woman he evei 
really, loved — she was the daughter of a respectable tradesr 
man of the name of J<dinson. The heroine of a novel h 
Always adorned, with all that the authcnr can bestow to 
make her amiable. — I do not write a novel; yet, if I am to 
credit the accounts I have heard of this unfortunate young . 
'womAn,shewas lovely beyond even Poet's fondest dreams* — « 
Lord B ■ was introduced to her and her family, un- 

der the disguised name of Oswald, — he soon made an 
impression on her heart, and as soon perceived he had.-<>-T 
The magic of his address was irresisiible even by women of 1 
the high^t rank; no wonder, therefore, it tiiade a strong imr- i 
pressionon an elegant young woman, in an humble, walk of 
life, whose cultivated mind would probably shrink from 
the vulgar ignorance, and pert flipp^acy, of tl^ yoi^^g men 
ahe was doomed to associate with. — Accustomed to the society 
cf London sh<^-keepers, the mild, die tender, the &scii^ttng 

JjoxA B would appear to her a being of a higher 

world ; an object she might have contepiplated in dreams, 
CHT in the fairy reveries of imagination, but never^gDwld 
have hoped to have met with in reality. — He prevailed ^ipa% . 
her to elope widi him, and they were married by a sej-vant 
of bis own, disguised fis a Clei'gyman.*»'-For several monifas . 
they led a life of llie giieatest hap^uness ; time, which weak«- 
€ns other attkclwientis, seemed only to stitrngtlieas theirs-*'* 

{jof d B '■■■^ " was dead to ithe world, and lived only to 

}oye«— *iii9 frteods, his eountry, his wife, and lus cliildreii) 



«*~ 



177 



; were forgot; nor did any person in Ireland know what had be- 
I come of him. It is painful to think that so much happiness 
was not founded in virtue, and that it was now drawing to a 
I, conclusion. He had lived almost entirely in the house^ for fear 
* of being recognised by some of his acquaintances in London ; 
N . confinement seemed to injure the lady's health, and as she 
f was likewise pregnant, gentle exercise was recommended 
^ her — they drove out sometimes to the environs of London, 
X but always in a close carriage. — On the last of those 
!; pceasions, the coach met with some obstruction in one of 
the streets near Hyde Park corner ; his lordship put his 
head out of the window, to see what caused it, when a 
gentleman from • the North of Ireland unluckily passed at 
the instant; — he fl^w up to the coach ; he was too full of 
what be had to say himself, to listen^o another: — ^^ Good 

God, my lord B , how glad I am to see you, — in 

Ireland we all thought you dead and buried, many a long 
day ago; — there is my lady B — , your poor wife, 

has been weiring and wailing, dispatching messengers, 
and advertizing you in all the papers in the kingdom.*' The 
suddenness of this address disconcerted Ihs lordship, and 
took ^rom him all power of dissimulation; — the gentle 
victim of his perfidy, in an instant perceived the full extent 
of her mii^fortune :-^^^ I am not your wife, then, it appears,'* 
said she, putting her hand on his shoulder, *^ but your mis- 
tress;*—'.' triumph now, but you will not triimiph long." 
Tbuchid by the sacred spear of truth, the fiend was now 
seoi^ tii his true colours, and shrunk dismayed from the 
Seraph's ' glance. He fell at her feet and implored for- 
giveness :— *^ I forgive you,'* she said, '' but I never, never, 
will forgive myself."T^That very evening ^he was taken ill, 
und about half an hour after having given birth to a son, 
shis expired. Lord B was inconsolable; he clasped 



iikt lifd^ss 1)bdy in liis iritis, and it vna 6nly after sev^iiil 
days^ when its removal became absolutely necessairy, liif 
could be separated frofai it, — ^When violent grief h^3 kiib- 
sided into softer metanchoiy^ he returned into Irelkrid^ iiMl^tk 
n separation took place between him and lady B ■ ■ ' ^* 

Her ladyship and her amiable daughters, have sitic^; 
1 believe, resided pretty constantly in England : his l<*d- 
[Ship plunged into business, and quaJBfed the bowl of pled* 
sure even to the dregs, but he never tasted happiness — ^by 
ruining another's, he had for everdestroyed his own. Hii 
was latterly unpoptilar among his tenantry, from the tnii^-^ 
management of an agent, to whom he entrusted tht con- 
duct of his affairs : this wounded him deeply, as he vrtSk 
desirous of the character of a good . landlord, and was iii 
reality one : he seldoni visited Cootehill, therefore, where, 
instead of the acclamations he was formerly received with^ 
he knew he would * only meet 



*' Curse8> hot loud, but deep, mouth-bonoar, breath, 

** Which the poor heart would fain deny, and dare not.** 

He had^ iiideed, 

*' Fallen into the sear, the yellow leaf^ 

" And that which should accompany old age : 

" As honour^ love, obedience, troops of friends, 

** He could not look to have." 

Justice, however, to his memory, obliges me tontedTare, 
he had many amiable qualities; he was a most escettent 
father, and the deep compunction he fdFt for Aie wr^f^ 
of the above-mentioned unfortunate )ady,^id iioncbr to I& 
sensibility. * Even after a lapse of many years/ the 
recollection of her would distort his face wifh*iig<my; ' 
in the gathering glootn of his eye, it was easy to relui 
anguish which preyed on his soul. — If^ in the social hont^ 
her image stood thus before him, no wonder it haimt^ 
him in the splitude of his chamber, in the gloom of mid- 



179 

l^ght^ thftt it should drive sleep from his pillow^ and strtw 
h with thorns ;— *if it poisoned even his joys, no wonder 
that it poured mon bitter gall into the cup of his declining 
jwars; ^^ Knowest thou not this of old, since man was 
placed upon earth, that the triuaiphing of the wicked is 
short, and his joy but for a moment^^' The libertine had 
shot his davt, bat it recoiled on himself^ it grazed the chedc 
at which it was thrown, but rankled in his own heart : if 
he had inflicted misery on her, he had inflicted more on 
himself; die worst pang which racked her mind, at the 
dboovery of his perfidy, which shook her frame in the hour 
of prematint labour, were less than he had felt a thousand 
times ;--^-^]aich covered his face with wrinkles; which 
bent his body down with a greater weight ^an that of 
p«ars.*-*She«hcad felt sorrow only, — he felt remorse. 

Opploske to BfeUamount forest, is the beautiful demesne 
of R. DawsiMi, Es^.: he does not reside here at present, 
nor has liiie house been inhabited for some years, ever 
since the death of the la;te Mr. Dawson, a gentleman uni- 
if«vsally aregretted, and .well known in Ireland by the aflec« 
tionate appelhition of honest J>iek Dawson. When a 
^roung man, he was remarkably handsome; <|VQn when I saw 
him, though inclining to be fat, he was still so — gifted with 
beauty,' good humour, and the most winning affability of 
manners, it 'Was natural he should be a great favourite <^ 

the ladies*;— 4us intrigue with Mi*s.- ? '^i, now lad y - i " ^ 

was stt one time much talked of; to stop the tale of malice^ 
he brought her down, with other ladies, to Dawsmi^s grov^ 
where she remained several months, as can readily be 
conceived, to the great mortification of Mrs. Dawson, — to be 
obliged to behave with civility to the woman she hated, who 
she knew possessed 'her husband's ajfectioos> and sh&r<c4 
"(the 'Lion's shaore) his favours, was a hard trial. of afemsile's 
tmper^ snd anight have overset die patience, evep of ikt 

V2 ^ 



180 

|>stient Grizzle herself. Nature was often too strong for 
mrt, and instead of smiles and ^courtesies, and other fashion- 
able displays of hatred, Mrs. Dawson met her fair guest 
with frowns and abuse. — In these, however, she was a poor 
proficient compared to her rival, who retorted on her with 
interest. The elegant inhabitant of Dublin castle, the 

favoiu'ite of the lord L 1, burst forth in the tropes of 

Billingsgate, accompanied with the gestures of Mendoza. 
Court ladies put on their court manners as they do their 
hoops, throw them of as easily, and, probably, are as impa* 
tient to get rid of them; this is the only instance of harsh* 
ness I ever heard Mr. Dawson was guilty of; he^ probably, 
was ashamed of it, as, soona fter, he gav« up Mrs.——, 
entirely, ^acchus became now his favofirite divinity; 
Venu^ fng^t^ (says the Latin proverb) sine Baccho ; but 
this only applys to its moderate use ; four bottles of claret 
is rather too profuse a libation to the Cyprian queen, who 
lio more t dishes drunken, than she does drowsy votaries. 
Mr. Dawson represented the county of Monaghan in par- 
liament, for many years before and after the union : nor 
could it have had a more upright or independent one ; — in 
every instance he voted according to his conscience ; he 
was steady in his opposition to the union, which he thought 
an injurious measure to Ireland, nor could the most tempt-*^ 
ing pnnnises of the minister, or the threats of lord Cre- 
mome to disinherit him, influence him to deviate from the 
line of his duty — ^the nobleness of such conduct can only 
be fully appreciated by those ^ho know the state of embar- 
rassment in which his affairs then w«ie. Lord Cremorne was 
at cards witli the Royal ftmily, at Windsor, when the dis- 
patches came in, which contaiped the proceedings of the 
Irish parliament, on this grand question, and the names 
of the members who vol^ on it. — Lord Cremc»me was so 
much shocked at seeing his nephew's name on the oIhkik* 



182 

ious list, that he fainted— that one of his family ' should 
cause any uneasiness to so good a king, who not only asked 
him to cards, but gave him supper into the bargain, was; 
the most terrible pf misfortunes, — It is but justice to him, 
however, to state, that upon consideration, he had sensi- 
bility enough to perceive the rectitude of his nephew's con- 
duct, and the magnanimity to pardon him — his disregard 
» of his orders. — Unsolicited, he wrote him a friendly and 
affectionate letter, nor was the olive branch of peace less 
acceptable for being accompanied with a thousand pounds. 
— Mr. Dawson's estate was only 30001. a year ; but as Lord 
Cremorne was very old and infirm, liis expenses were 
calculated on the scale of what he expected, rather than 
of what he ^possessed— if his munificent heart ever knew 
ivhat iit was to calculate. — He was son to Lor(> Cremorne's 
younger brother; a gentleman well known in the hunting 
world. — He was the Irish Nimrod of Hs day, and his 
exploits were the theme of many a ballad and song. — He 
lived in the same thoughtless profusion as his son; and 
for the same reason — expectation of the death of his elder 
brother, who was subject in youth to violent attacks, of 
inflammation of his lungs, and was obliged to reside, for 
several years, in the south of France, to avoid a consump- 
tion. — Some jocular lines of his are preserved in the recollec- 
tion of some of the old inhabitants here, — I insert a stanza, 
to shew the humour of the man, rather than from any 
merit it possesses : — 

f Don*t you think at length, I have a good chance, 
" For Tommy can live, no. where but in France ? 
*' Dick's a good Father, and Tom's a good brotber, 
" Pray Heaven in thy mercy, take both one and t'other/' 

Lord Cremorne Is still alive, and is upwards of ninety 
—The vigorous Fax-hunter, whose swelling - chest, and 



W2 

Herculea^feme, promised many years t>f dtimtlon, has long 
motildered'.TOto dmt. — When I was last at Dawsori*s grove, 
it was the seat of gaiety and festivity — Mr. Dawson's lios- 
pitality was unbounded— and every person whota beliai 
once seen, found a ready welcome at his board ; whtre 
his princely spirit always provided the best cheer, whSe 
his wit and good humour, would have given a relish to ihe 
worst. 

" A merrier inaa^ 
'' Within the limit of becoming mirtb> 
^ ''I never spent an hoar's talk withal.'* 

He was a great improver of his demesne, on whicb he 
expended several thousand pounds. — The appearance of 
neglect is now visible — the eye that watched over it, is 
closed — rubbish covers the path, the ground is over-nm 
by the bramble, and the weed grows unmolested, by the 
side of the rose.---" Something too much of this/*-— I fear I 
have some Aristocratic leaning; I stay too long In great men's 
castles, and don't visit the poor man's cottage, where the 
manners of a country are best to be learned j — the season 
is rapidly advancing likewise — and it will be a long while 
before I get to tjie giant's causeway, if I travel with these 
fairy steps. 

The people about Cootehill are outrageously loyal — 
disagreeably so I was about tb say — but checked myself. — 
The bulk of mankind, will always be in exti*emes — ^In the 
cellar or the garret-^and it is better to be outiageouslj 
loyal than the reverse.—- The inhiibitfmts of the town^ in 
17^7^ were supposed to have rather a democratic tendency 
— assuredly they were not loyal no more than Iheylvere 
righteous overmuch. A friend of mine settled among 
them as a physician, and had dif&cultv enough' to kQOW 



18? 

» 

jKow tq cosuVict himself — he was veiy moderate in his 
j^ol^tical opinion^^ and not over and above rich — ^his ol^ect, 
;thcure^ore> lijcje the sun, was to shine on the just and the 
^Ufijust^ to physick both the Aristocrat, and the Democrat; 
and to eat the dinners of both, when invited to them. — 
^rWs system, however excellent in theory (like many other 
^^cellent theories) succeeded very indifferently in practice- 
each party insisted he belonged to the other — like Maho- 
jKiet's tomb, he hung half-way between heaven and earth, 
and of consequence had no support from either.-— The 
Aristocrats set him down a Democrat for four admirable 
reasons — he was a presbyterian, be wore hb hair short, he 
drai^ nothing but water, and was, oftener than once, 
detected in the fact — of walking with some ladies, who 
)yere said to be united Irishwomen.— United Irishwomen 
were more obnoxious tha.n united Irishmen, because they 
were the grand missionaries for making proselytes — for 
putting men ^p, in technical phrase.— It is needles to add, 

•^tlie ladies most successful in putting men vpy were young 
opes— (Why the republicans took him for an Aristocrat, 
will appear presently. — Among other introductions, he had 
oqe to a respectable gentleman, who resided a short dis- 
tance from the town — he insisted on his staying at his 
house, until he could accommodate himself with a lodging 
—-the morning after his arrival, the son, who was a lad 
about sixteen years of age, invited him out to the garden, 
to have a few moments conversation with him.— When 
they were arrived at the most retired part of it, his young 

. conductor, drawing himself up with great dignity, pro- 
ceeded to inform him, that the county regiment was com- 
pile in men — the subordinate officers were all appointed, 

..|>ut a leader was wanted — the situation had been offered 

Jaim, but be thought himself too young, for so important a 

charge*— ^Uis maiden swoscd had not been flushed in any 



184 

species of combat — ^but he believed he had interest etiou^ 
to procure it for him—- he was a physician — a man of 

Bit 

sense, and understood Latin and Greek no doubt ; whicji 
was, above all things, what the troops desired the most. — (The 
rebels, it seems, in order to be in all respects as diffe- 
rent from his Majesty's forces as possible, wished to have 
men of learning at their head.)— If, therefore, he would 
take the united Irishman's oath, the situation of colonel 
was very much at his service«^-My friend stared at him for 
some time, thinking he was jesting, but finding he was 
perfectly serious, declined the favour, with as much 
gravity as it was offered : — he returned him misiny thanks, 
*for the opinion be entertained of his talents, and the speedy 
promotion which might soon be followed by still higher, he 
' nieantto honour him with — he never could discover, however, 
that he had any military qualifications — they had all heard of 
heaven*born statesmen, and generals, btkt he was afraid he 
< was not a heaven-born colonel — ^^he had never fired a giia 
but once in his life, at a flock of sparrows, about ten paces 
'distant, and then he missed them-— his genius (if he had 
any) lay in another way— his ideas were grovelling — ^to his 
shaipe he must confess, he preferred the ringing of a pestle 
and mortar, to the sound of a trumpet, and writing recipes, 
to flourishing a pike — with his good leave, therefore, he 
^ would stick to his profession — concluding with nearly a 
similar sentiment to that of Othello. 

^' Though in my trade I may perhaps slay men. 
Yet do I hold it very stuff o* the conscience 
To do no contriv'd murder." 

The conference here ended; my friend went in to bredc- 

. fast,and the young colonel maker sallied fo^ in questof some 

man wlio spoke Latin, and ha^ more enterprise^ and fewer 



185 

»e:ii]ptesy than he had.— That rvrj e^^eniog, however^ 
dii$ military Roseius was obliged to walk off the stag£T^-hi$ 
frien<& found it necessary to send him privately away, an4 
Afterwards got him smuggled, to America^ whece he now 
is • — ss he aince got his head broke at a large party for 
damning the Americans for a parcel of outlandish savages ; 
and was near losing his. life on another occasion^ in a dud 
he fought with a French emigrant, in defence of the repu^ 
tation of lady Pamela Fitzgerald, and, moreover,- has got a 
wife and three chtl<ken, it is to be presumed his fire i^ 
pretty well spent, and that he is now a peaceful member of 
society. This, gallant officer, like Dionisius,- retired^ tp 
Corinth, condescended for some time to teach a school, in 
one of the back settlements : — he has since emerged from 
that lowfy calling, and, I understand, keeps a pork and 
samsage shop in New York, or Boston. 

Some time after this conversation. Doctor " » ' was 

invited. to a grand entertainment, given by. a g^itleman a 
few miles from the town. It was Christmas time, and the 
reason of joHity-*-dinners were jdenty, though fees wete 
scarce — physicians, like lawyers, take whatever they can 
get — my friend had no patient at the time, he therefore 
accepted the invitation : — there was a brilliant assemblage 
: of both sexesf : It was whatis called a house warming, and 
there was a dinner, a balK a^d a supper. — There were a 
great number of beautiful youn^ women, smiling like 
Hebes, and verdant as spring, for they all \vore her livery 
*— green ribbons, green gowns, green shoes, and, for aught 
he could tell^ green garters.— May lingered in the lap of 
December, and he literally thought himself in clover — mirth 
and music, politics and pastime, flew about like a pack of 
cards.— The company were all of one mind ; ladies old and 
young — youth which sat at aside table, as well as the grave 
pecsom^e who said grace.— £rm-go-brach. Unite and be 



186 

free^ and Paddy's Fcaounse^ w«re sung wiAmpt^jaat; and 
«Dy fri^nd^ who had an eye to the ycNuigiadies' ciutom, p^l^ 
liaps, when they became wives, or was intoxicated mth 
their chacms, chonissed as loudly as if he had been Nupp^ 
Tandy himself:— he was no enemy to govemment^ but^pm- 
bably,' thought itwould not ftU a whit the sooiier for the w!ef^ 
|>ons they were then attackingit with. A gendeinan^ of a salw- 
»ine appearance^ who sat in a corner^ and sung the leasst, 
though he drank the most of any one in company, was ef the 
'MOOfte q)inion — He addressed them on dieir improper leirHy#; 
— ^heespected to have heard some raticfaal coorersation, he 
«aid,'— some plan for delivering them &c»n their dome&tic 
enemies— -the vile magistrates who oppressed-<^-the viler 
#pies who informed upon th^n— -drinking and toasti^ was 
^iiot the way— "even if they toasited and /ixwok to doom^diay ; 
—but let every person single out an enemy, dispatch him 
fai the -best manner <he could — so glorious an example, 
would be foHojt^ed by their countrymen, apf^uded ^by the 

•world— -and Ireland would be ftee. Or. t ■ ■ heaid 

^^is modest proposal of aissassinalion, amidst /the (festivities of 
4)^ the table, with astonishment. Ev^try cme was sikaiit : 
— ^ sphis is the first time,^' whii^eredhe, to his r^glit hayid 
jfcietghbour, 5f that! ever heard butchering men, more than 
^breaking their'bones, was sport for the ladies/' ^When they 
are enemies to thefr country," replied ^this humane und juM* 
4i6u» young lady, what better can they expect V^ He look^ 
f.at h^ stedfastly--*at the ^ces of the men ai^ odier 
women— -}ie bad mistaken tlte cause of their sil^ioe — it 
was n^t wonder*-'-it w^s not horror^'^-hewould not say itanas 
approbation :— with the wannt|i of an unc^pntaminated 
mind, he reprobated the infamy of assassination, and the 
jlmquttv of svch an advice — ^wMcb w^ not more odioos 
than absurd^— not more shocking tahumaanty,.than <^pos|te 
^o policy — which wpiuld detach ^eyery thinkingtgH^ .ifqia 



m 

iktSx coQse^ asd fot every enemy idcen ofl> m>uhi ^se ^iip 
a hundred in his room.— *Tfae gva^e^entleidAan looked ^t blm 
without making any reply—-*' Whp is that fellow/' whi^pei^d 
lie (to the geDftlrauan who sat next him) *' tliat . hit$ beea 
preaching there, is he a parmm ?'*-^-'* No,'* tibe other 
aosftrered, '* he is a young physician.^*—" Ecod, then/* 
otplaed the other, '* he will never live to be iiu 
obl one^-- »he is a damned aristocrat.'' — In the cfwm» 
of the ev^ng he danced with a lady of a mild and 
prepossessing appearance— ^he did not talk politics to her, he 
was discouiBged l^ his uttsuecessful whisper to his fair 
i»eighbour at taUe : — she entered on the subject, however^ 
hevself — '^ I ^ sbc^d never have tbou^t you were an 
wlstoi^rat, if I liadja'theifccd it from your own tips !" — '^Mjr 
own tips^ tlien,*' he replied, ''must have ut^red false wor(^,; 
. for I assuce you I am no aristocrat^ but a fiieod to the rigbt^ 
tod happiniess of man."< — ''You take^.wrpng method ^f 
shewing it jthen/' said she, ^' hy pleading th^ Qf^iae of hia 
oppressors -•^-v.ile wretches— }I |UQ(i sm^ dea^i .is top gQO^ 
for them— ithey deserve worse if wori?e is pos<?ible" — ^' ^ 
Is not so much what they deserve we i^hoiii^ld cpui^id^r, i^ 
what is proper far ourselves — I nm «ur^ asss^ssiiiij^tic^ icPi;\9<: 
a fit subject for a giirl, potr J trust will it ever find an advpc^ 
in you." — ^'Ah!" ^dsbe^^Aafeiftg heyhead, " you ^re jiotriie 
eroppy— T(the united Irid^men wore tbeir hairj^hort, aq^ 
were therefore designated by the loyalists, in derisipq, ccojh 
pies-*rfiersoa8 who for convenience adopted this fatshioifjb 
often experienced, therefore, insult, |ind AQ^eti^Qs,if^iu^ 
from the 2(ealots of loyilty^ ^bo c^reiuHy p^^s^vqd ^^hqir 
own long and flowing looki^, 9s,if Ifi^ iQJ^ty^ %^ Sfi^niion'ts 
strength, l?iy in the h^r)-r-^au ip*iy wc^ your hi^ fAo^^, 
yssa may^iiig wh^t soi^gs, Md d^nce iv^at two^esiyou piteasey 
hut I tellyow, .yWr%reno tPUe caropjgyr— y^u k^()9, butai 
]isp^bU€s^n,".saidsbewltb jwim^tion, "4ee}s*-r^for his bleedij)g 
country — for the exile in a foreign land, — for the prisoner in 



188 

adungeon,*^forthe victiinoii thescaffUd; — ^for the wretched 

wanderef without habitation or name ; whose house has been 

burned, whose wife has been outraged, and property 

destroyed, by the vile agents of lawless and brutal power. 

'<— and because I am awoman^ I am not to tliink of this—? 

I am not to feel for their sorrows, because I cannot relieve 

their distresses; — ^I am not to pursue with curses, their 

low-minded, and soon I hope^ to be low-laid oppressors, 

because I am a woman — ^because I am weak— because I 

am a girl, as you were pleased to call me ; but if I am weak, 

God is strong, and will soon I trust exterminate such 

monsters from the face of the earth. I would not, added 

Ac, after a pause, and in a more moderate tone, strike a 

dagger into one of their hearts, but I would Mess and pray 

for the man who did it, and would take his chance of 

Heaven, far sooner than the cold-blooded preachers who 

talk of virtue, but encourage vice, and trample on, and 

outrages innocence, by affording impunity to guilt/' — Xo 

reply was made to this violent speech — to have answered 

it with ridicule would have been cruel ; and reason would 

have been unavailing, to lay those terrific images her fancy 

conjured up ; and which caused her, like Hamlet, to speak 

daggers, though, like him, she said, she would use none. 

Spite of his prudence, the cold-blooded doctor confessed 

he was struck with respect and admiration, for the feelings 

that dictated those sentiments ; that sparkled in^the eye, 

and illuminated the countenance of the fair enthusiast ; 

and when he took hold of her hand, which still trembled 

with the vehemence with which she had spoken, and dried 

the tear which trickled down her glowing cheeky he found 

his feelings, in favour of the exile, the prisoner, and the 

wanderer, stronger than they had ever been before — ^Like 

Festus in the Apostles, he could have exclaimed, ^^ almost 

tiiQu persuadest me to be a republican.'' — r-At a period 



189 

Jiub^equent to this, I knew her myself.-^She was then mar- 
ried, and I never was in company with a more aikiiaUe 
woman. The enthusiasm of the hour had passed away, 
and given place to the sober business of human life. Occu* 
pied with domestic empfoyment, and domestic happiness, 
she thought little of those evils she once thought great,-^ 
which are incidental to all insurrections, and which inter- 
ference, however well meant, hardly ever fails to exaspe- 
fate. The fault she fell into, is one very common to per- 
sons of great sensibility, — whose feelings are strong and 
judgments weak*— who have good hearts but weak heads. 
In the strong sympathy they feel for distress, all minor con- 
siderations are swallowed up — they never reflect how mucb 
of it is folly, and brought on by itself ; — how much of it i$ 
guilt, and deserving of punishment. — Become sanguinary, 
even by the' excess of their humanity — become oppressors, 
from their abhorrence of oppression, they inflict misery 
from the hatred they bear it — ^their love of virtue makes 
them unjust, their horror of cruelty, makes them cruel, 
and sullen hatred, and demoniac malice, are not produc- 
tive of greater ills in society, than their noble and generous, 
but romantic and ill-regulated emotioivs.— The English 
character itself is a strong and unfortunate illustration of 
this ;— without going back to any distant period of our his- 
tory, we have only to refer to the causes which led to the 
war in which we have been engaged, with slight interrup- 
tion, for UfHvards of seventeen years. What Mr. Pitt's 
motives for entering into it were, I shall not attempt to de- 
termine, — the man is at rest, which is more than he would 
allow the world to be — but of this I am certain, the hu« 
manity of the people of England, which made them trem- 
blingly alive to the excesses perpetrated in France^ could 
alone have engaged them so warmly in it — nor do I know 
whether most to admire, or execrate^ the char^cteiistii^ 



190 

■ 

Mfittiing o^ this i^onderfal mM^ wUch efildbWd tian^ wlik 
duch fetal adroitness, to cottirert die honest prejudices <tf 
the ' English nation, in favour of good order and. humaamtf^ 
hito me deadly weapon of destruction, of all they most 
levetted. — Ministers would never have dared to avow the 
design of starving twenty-four millions «f men, if thej 
had not previously intoocicated the people of England, and 
Uke the fri)le of Circe, prepared them, by their artificial 
declamations, by their pathetic and tragic speeches, for 
flie perpietration of acts as brutal as those they thought 
most farataK ■ The French people were guilty af great 

excesses, which excited the abhorrence of ike English ;•** 
It is to their credit that they did excite it, yet happy womM 
% have been for the peace of ttiaa, had we been, 

" Duller than the fat weed 
" That rots itself in .ease, on Lithe's wharf, 
*' Ere we had stirred in this.'* 

Tdr to our hrteiference, 1 fea*, is to be ascribed infeiny of 
fhe ttifeferifes of the warj as weM as the ^nd-like charaeter 
it ijisplays.: — ^This might have been foreseen 'by«fiy person 
^ho witnessed the shock our declaration of it, in the yeaf 
1*793, gaveptiMlc, as well as individual feeling iiif*rance« 
Tfiat Atrstriafi, Jftid Prussian despots, should endeafvour f^ 
ilrusli ^he rnfdnt tepubHc, was not wondered at. The 
Fi^ench i-elied on the supei*iority of 'their strength, and tis 
{hey had litfle fear, they cbuld not long feel mttch resewt^ 
ment, vvhatever (frctai motrves ef policy) they might aifect 
toTeel.— But the interference of England, her giganticpowcr, 
£er immense rcsJomxCs, pot in imminent jeopardy the frtiil 
bark bfTrcdddfti, assailed as it was by dangers of other lands 
-—nor was it tnore orerwhehhing than unexpected. England'^ 
^e seat of fi*eedotn, of ^humane feeling, of jtist reasoning « 
feriglahdj Irvhom they •venerEited, whose opiAioas Aey 
ji^dopted, whose example 4hey thought they followed, whose 



9V 

ptvjudiee^ ifi^ t^ri^d $^(Ii^ she shotdd re^uA dioS« 
Efforts, (fijt ivHeh sfte e^tpactefl pfeise) With Honef ; that 
she should repay Het venetatibti, 1?itli itisult and litikitidiiess, 
were injuries too great, too aggravated, ever to be forgiven. 
Love was converted into hatred, — the milk of English 
kindness was curdled in their breasts 3 and the unsteady 
Frenchman, became the steady and irreconcileable enemy 
of England. — He met, he imagined, no kindness in the 
day of his sorrow, no allowance for the excesses of his 
madness, no mercy in the hour of his weakness ; and we 
may be well assured, he will shew none in the hourof hia 
strength. — I have said, perhaps, too much on this subject; 
jret my feelii^ ^re iso strong, I cannot forbear Myitig a fe# 
Words more. TTi^ FVeAch revtoiuf ioih wfeis a great but dT 
ibeetiiig evil — it Wits ^ transient cloud that Would sdon have 
^l^se'd ai^y ; bur inteWet'ence fixed it and dl-ew dowi^ thftt 
fatal storm, which has debated Eiirope, and inundateNl ftef 
plains with blood. Frenteh iitheism overturWed the Altkim 
ctf iieligion', banished khd murdered her prie^s ;-^Eh|gBsh 
It^igioin forged assigi^ral^, and preached u^ ti crnsudd Of 
Iblood. — French ainbltion, overran countries, overWnrnedgo* 
Vemmetats ; — English huriianity, encotiraged nations to 
tmavid^ng resistance, and sent her Own [troops to h^lw* 
(6dih%at ; or to motrlder in infected climes, and unwlK^ks 
idttie tnarshes, ifrdm the efftcts of slow, thdngh «ot tetti. 
'certain disease. French action, ktid English reaction^ 
French baiMarity, and English humanity, htixre iijfiictc^d ^ 
much misery on mankind these last seventeen years, as 
ever befel them in the same space of time— not even 
excepting the civil wars between Caesar and Pompey, or the, 
•pfotfcrtptions tif Augustus or Afark Antony. Thechsibof 
Dflrdpe, God knows, was deqierate enough ; we need not 
ifiCve tfi^e* it worse by ihtermedlii^—- could vhe hsvt 
IfyCik^^ KiMfi l»iglit*have luM to tib, n t>nei>octMr "did l» 



192 

uDodier^ of whose jud^^ent he had bat an indifTereht 
opiuion : — '^ Good Mr. John Bull, give me a chance for 
recovery, by forbeariug to prescribe for me/' 



CHAP xvn, 



"N 



Omagh. 



X HAD now lipent several days in Cootehill, and it was time 
to think of quitting it; — I have said so much of the peo- 
ple, that I hkve not left myself room to say any thing of 
the place; no great misfortune either, as I know nothing 
remarkable in it, except the extreme neatness of the sham- 
bles : the meat sold there, I am told, is exceirent, but of 
this I can only speak by hear say; I abominate the sight of 
raw meat, as much as I do that of a butcher ; it reminds 
a man too forcibly of what a cannibal he is. — I took leave 
of my venerable friend, with a melancholy pre-sentiment 
we should never meet again in this life, nor was I disap- 
pointed; the very day I left her she was suddenly taken ill^ 
and died after a few hours illness :: — I do not know that 
at any age, death should be considered an evil ;— I should 
think it a blessing, when it summons us at sevggjy-two. 

** Lusisti satiSj edisti satis^ atque bibtsti ; 
*' Tempus abire tibl est." 

I dined at her house the evening before I went awaj, 
in company with a rich farmer, who lived some miles dis- 
tant ;-•— when he understood that my route was pretty mi^ch 
the same as his own, he invited me^ with upreat civility, tP 



« 



kske a sieat in his gig^ and stop and pass the day at his house-^ 
I complied with cheerfulness :-— I was accustomed to Irish 
hospitality, and liked it— at the worst, it could only give 
me a sick stomach and head-ache, and I was sure of them. 
If I ventured into a stage coach. — We bad n pleasant'^ 
enough drive, as the day was very fine, and my companion 
good-humoured ; but the country was dreary, with high hills, 
which we clambered up at a snaiFs-pace, aiid ran the risk 
of breaking our necks in going down. The witty Editor 
of the Morning Post observed, on Sir Francis Burdett's leav* 
ing the tower by water, that he might now boast of having 
gone through both fire and water for his country.— Were 

. i tOv avail myself of this most exquisite pun, I might say 
I did the same for the benefit of my reader. For the great-i 
est part of the way there were turf bogs on one side, und 
lakes on the other; — t^rf, as is generally known, is the 
firing of the Irish, and a most delightful fire it makes ; — it 
appears to advantage in a grate, but certainly is no im- 
provement to a landscape. — In some parts of Ireland 
the bogs «pe very extensive, and a traveller may readily go 
astray in them ; as the footing is not very firm, he is often, 
not able to extricate himself without assistance, and, there- 
fore, is often not extricated' at all. When the ignis fatuus 
of whiskey has decoyed the poor peasant, returning from 
fairor,market,intoQne of these immense morasses, he is gene- 
rally found lifeless the next morniqg : A man is metapho* 
rically lost ifi^ bog, (in Irish phrase) when he gets so 
entangled in an argument, as to be unable to move either 
backMrards or forwards. 

The house where we were going was surrounded by trees, ancjl 
jtooked very well at a distance ; like many men and women^ 
however, it did not improve upon nearer acquaintance :— we 
droVje up to the door, and stepping incautiously out, I was half^ 

- way up my leg in a large puddle of dirty v/ater, which stag- 



194 

jiated ct t^e- very ibmhAd^-^my nwdceen pi&b|kxm% ud 
white iftoekiogs, were Iktle improfed by Aa knqienmti. 
f^ Evil betide me, (9«id my conductor) aot to l^U yc^ntaslep 
on Ae bcpMl" — On looluag dowa, I found there dhm m 
boud, on vhkh, as cm a bri^, I entered the house* ^^ You 
mast he fond of waler indeod, {«aid I) to keep a lake in 
front of your house ; one shoidd thiric you had eopugii of 
jAein in the neighbourhood! but I would leeomviend a 
boat to yo«y instead of that Alpine bridg?, o^e of a wigie 
plank; your visitors would pass oyer in greater seeHrity*** 
^ Neter mind thewater, my honey, (said he) takeadny 
of Ae cratar to keep it out of your stomach, and I wanwnt 
yeu it will do you no harm ;*«Hny sorvants are s^ hmj, s# 
busy, but if you happen to come this way about Chrlstaws, 
yon shall have a hearty welcome, and dry footing into the 
bargain. — Aa most farm-houses in the North of Irehmd 
are similar in construction to the one I was nour in, I skdl 
describe it exactly : — It was two stories h^, whitf-wnehe^ 
and thntched; — on entering the hall, 1 found it likewise 
the kitchen, where a large fire was blazing— **on the right 
hand was the parlour, off which there was a small bed*m»iB ; 
the apartments above corresponded in size to ihesei but 
were mere lumber rooms ; — ^they resembled the wo^ hidf 
of Noah's ark ; they were a receptable for all undeaa 
things — the apartments on the left hand I reserve ion bed 
time. — ▲ length of tiqie elapsed before the mis^resa ef 
Uie house made her appearance. I judgeH^ by the great 
bustle that prevailed, by the opening and sbuttmg of doo»» 
that she was either dressing herself, or the dinner}— »ttnfor- 
tanately, it proved the former, — she sailed in, cla4 in an 
old-fosbioned lutestring gown, that swept the ground be^ 
hind her. After* some time spent ia conversation^ which 
I every moment expected to have interrupted hy» sum- 
mons to dinner, the husband observed to luJ9;f(|ir apoifKi^ 



a vm ^Aat ttiff lire drderi khoai itoa^.--^^ ^Hi^ ft ^fl te 
#9iii« ttiMbrfmre kh wuudf^'* (lakl Lj^^^'^Oby not more thifti 
half dn hour, (she refAied f) tarn gboB^ mH be ftut <m the 
<s]^ in mn iAfttint/' — It wfls too^broe, ^ 96^kaAt(> Ve 
pvk on the spk} but there ms mudi jpreimiiiiiiy iMtlfir 
beftke he ooukt be brought that Itegth^-^hia hftd to he 
dmDt«,4m<l d^^emd^ aiidpliick04p-->-he<had t»be kitiedy fhr 
he was actually, at that ifiatant^ ila&liag Ifte a stactefy Bf(^ 
011 the p€«Mi> whare I had sa Mftlitunfttely made tiAp^ 

« Diiiner was so long in cdming^ that I lost jba^ pAiiattee 
ftmt, and then my appetite. — It made ita ^ppevmrnt, At 

' lengthy howerer ; it was tolettdbly well it<6s^td^ taoAv^ hftd a 
hotde of ex^llent wine. Ahet I fatdeat of aomethiiig mM, 
I asked for a slice c£ the goose ; itiy hdsl flourished Ms k^Ut 
and fork with great dei^terity $ but, instead of dmwing the 
1»ife across die bveast of the goose, as he kitended> drew 
ft acunss his ownfia^rs, froAi wMeh the blood pour^ 
40VVA in a copious atream, on the dish before faiih. — ^Tbem 
wfts no eating foose with such $uf^guimry sauce ; i therefore 
aentaway a^piate, being perfeedy 45ttjsfied« — My hodt's Innd 

'heart was ^ot so easily contented 5 he tmd reluraed to ita 

•table with his fingers tied up, in a clout thai was none of 

-ihe etemest : he said I lad madenofiniKer^ and that I mast 
poskiYely eat a wing of the goose, whieh he awore the blood 
had not touched. ^^ But what, though it had man,"' iaid hi, 

. with a c<»dial slap of hia sound hand oft mf knee, ^ it is 
neither Jew's> nor Papist's blood, but aigobdoldPio^tantfs^ 
wbonevardid a dishot^st, or disloyal -action ; trBo hi#aa 
€k>d, imd honours the King/' '^And hates the Pqpe,'' said 
L ^' B — n the Pope," said hey <' and aM ^Aa« t^es his 
part; if I hiLd the Iml'of them, I would haiig them aU 1^ 

- without judge car jury ;-»-aa ouduldi^ Tsgrant, sisataf} 

:4iE0sa^leg9ed on hia snren hills, like a ac^kdat whdi% lia he 

Q 2 



}9< 

is/' ^ Heiiiiftqmt the hffls/' aaid I, "" liis Frmeh PbjraicilB 

thought the ak of them, too keen fiar hb codstStuti^B^ Md 

criateA him down to die valley/' ^^ Heshouhl hdve onlertfd 

him to ih» D^vil,'V said my host^ (who had swallowed a 

bmoper Of two of grog, befisre dinner, and was txm a &tle 

elevatedf) <^ he and M bis bfeed.>— GomV said lie» ** III 

give you a toast, that I am stiie you won't object lo, £»- yta 

have a good Proteatatxt foce } come, bumper, bumper I aayi 

nosi!cy»IigM«-*-here's to H-— wiA thera all forever 1" — " Fw 

ev<rr'' said I, '^ is surely too long ; a thousand or two years 

mi^t satisfy/'-^''. T^'s purgatory/' saidhe, ^^ and the Papist's 

doctrine,— 4 dont believe in it, — Ah, master rf miney (diww* 

i^g his chair closer, and speaking lower, as if afraid .^ 

beipg over heard) you don't know thim as I do ; you hw'^ 

lived among theln^ and can't tell- what sort of ikirmin thty 

are : why, maii> my own sortNittts would muifd^ me iii my 

bed) if they durst ; and ao I told them on Fridi^ last, hetfig 

the^r^t of August old stile, of all da}rs in the. yaar ; .yw 

un|;iatefttl vipers you,'^ said I, ^' I feed aaid nurri^ fbw, and 

yet if the Frendi landed to-morrow, yoUr would lirm £ml^ 

and cut off my head, for a present to some French Capt^n 

or other, to make yourselves moi*e weloome/' ^' Freneh Cap^ 

tains," saidl,^f care very little about nuen's heads, whatev^ they 

may about their pusses ; there k gold sometimes in ti^m^^^ 

And lead in the poor Irishmen's skulls," said he, with nkoighj 

'^ thank you, tlumk you, master; come, that's a good -ane too# 

I love my joke^ and I love my friend, and l-tsive my glasSp 

andl lover-dang it, Mt'^ well fhoi:^ht on too-^Isay, Gil your 

glass, Fll give you my wife^s health— ^a better soiel never 

broke bread 5 doesn't cross the threshold from, week's end to 

week's etid, and yet you see, in company, she Hi quite tlie 

look of a .l^dy-^she's of a grate ^mky, in thifc eounty Am^ 

magh— her father's a tip-^top immk there— keeps a large l^mp* 

yard> and is himd in glove with Sfuine Vemei^ mA ail- tlia 



19T 

11^' ef Ae genti7.i-*0£aiige and Bide .for eirerif mf jewel/' 
said hey— ^^ King WiHiam^ for ever^-^^lCmg Gec»ge,*«">6od 
ble^bim." ^^AodthePrineess Charlotte^'' said I, ^^aaddie 
Prince of Wales, and the-Rojial Anmly — That^s wbat tl^ 
prayer*book says/" ^ The Prince of Wales ia a good mmi't - 
jion, and 4&tr<e)Eare we'll- diink refonaaticsi to hi«i/' , 
sai^vh^r^ if .y<» jr&uie. < Cm you tell me if he ktf^ 
company wkh Mra.'^ F-**-- yet ?"> *^ ite vmy. Bkely/*- 
^kid ly- ^^ for Isacntold she is still a handsome ^.i^oman/'*^ 
^'iSh^'s^ oldy^^said he,-r-^^ No womanisold inlioi|don/' saldi; 
^' There. ifr4ij^4»to many of i6mm" said he, ^ thai ate oUef 
than Aey-ai;e gsood^ ru be bennd for it ; but ym eaU't deny 
tliat ¥««* F-i---^- is a Pafist.?' .*< Why, miai,*r sttki .1^ 
*^fthe Papists are a great tr6uUe to yod.-4-Do you danktiiet 
I^inc^cif Wales goes, to Mfs« F«— «— to te)kire%i«B t6her<P 
**1 dpn't kiH^ what the devil her goes to her for,^"' said bsy 
^^nop, not iogktjon an; til answer, do I eai«i;-»«^but'tfaii I 
km^9 simple as. I sit here^ I wcHild«nt go to a 
P^pis^W*r-T-wbe&aprQtestantonew&s to begot, for lo9ei» 
miHaey : but I suppose, its all owing, tothat damned feUo^' 
Ai{iu^.u,«^, w4io>.' if bebad hisg«od wiU^ would not let a Protest 
t^fit di9g n^ar him,' ht f^r of his barking some truth into 
lus ear. *^-^Good wits jiunp; nearly a similar thoughtoecunred 
to a noble Loid, in .the reign of Charks the second r In 
the delates on the esdusion lull, a^ it was<3HU«d, he waa* 
pkased to fioMi his speech in the fodlowing- manner : K I 
wMld not hii« (said this admimble ^gislator,) so much as^ 
a, Popish dog* to bark, or a Popish cat to mew, or pur about 
lheKit«« — <'C<dbnelMae-^-r-*^'satdi, ^'isnoCatbalio;" he 
is^a member of > ParUament^and goe&to Chnr(^»'%?-^He be^ 
dMiaed,'^ said he, '^he is a rank Papist in his heaH, if be 
wais to swearttll he was Uiick in the face, to the contrary }«*^ 
Mae> of the county Mimaghan go tO'Chnrcb^- ha,.hal«-«a 
Ane nunetogotd Qburdhk with, trul^:*»->rii,.4Mm things may 
^ down with Jolm Bull ; but we know better, and take- 



•* 



199 

carjB of tum^riniheii ke does ooiiuqg but fi^ fait iirt tS^^ 
and 0i> 4a sjioep :*^lia, ha ! people aipenmc now-a-days $ fliey 
lavgh aiDid times a^ii lu^nar^^bey will emancipate tiie 
j)«fii9AHi^ wiB tliey — they will make Ihem Meqds of Eagkod, , 
'T^Ynf dc^Oi^tbat l^jHrraat*«-pdiey will stand by them at the 
pifllji^ and:kec|» ontt'Biieiiapaiite^ — Ogh-hotie, but they knew 
them wdIr-and.tiiey/11 seen know Aitu^ beltpr } btit by my 
sotal ftcgr'U pay dear for their Jomtiig.'^^^nMiripa^ the 
CetholJMf to mftke friends o£ them I J '" ' "B , wliat foob 
ovr gnratpec^ bfi-nrif they weie to give them ikt eiewn 
oi bgliod lo-4ay9 Aey wmdd be quaivdyiDg f«r the 
d^mond^ (that I'm tmM «»ee dn>pped o9t of it) to» 
n^inmrk'' bi thia manner we eoactimied ineimg^ 
aftA^toTersang to »Jale. honr. My wcMilq^host was aa 
hospilaUe §m commuaioative, and no mdre a ehfurl of his 
Hsnordwn of hia talk^-«-4^e was, in trails aWnd-hemted 
eie«|iu^ who hated noshh^, birt^ papists and tilkpse n^ Imk 
theie part f— his hocue seeised- the abode of plenty^ hot 
tkmfmfymnA, diply^-Jiis brain boie ajpoodded ofteseaablaa^a 
t» itrrvhe had idess eneiq^ siidi as they weie, but like ^ 
fiUBJtam of the apaftpent^ a little top6y*tiir?y.^«>I !»«% 
beeA particufaur ip mlating tins comreisatioift, b^mrnse^ 
thonfh appureirtly fidvaloas, it is in w$b^ not 8d-«-^ioi]^ 
deVvered in ebame and vnlgar phrase^ it eovtatas a fidthfid' 
pictere of (Msange Heeling, on die^uhjects on whieh i^ ^^imed | 
.^his sentiments, were those of a olas% ^ngib his langoa^e 
T«m that of ^ indiridnal ; his phrases, his ejaouladonS) hia 
■vimdyty, weise bis own- -Jbut ^is opinions, his paejudieea, 
aMl his hotceds, were ibose c^ Im tribe,«^Tlie umfeimitf of 
opinion iriiicb p^cvadea abnost idl the indtvidu ids of die two 
gsand eteaaes into which Ireland is divided, is moit 
won^wrfiil ; par oan any thiog lie more iitttantaneous, Asn 
the sya^dietic feeling.wl^di vibrates from the highest to 
the lowesi; and, asakn^ allowanoe for thed^fereaee wf 
ednnatiim, nmkes the. peer aipid peasant speid( nenfy « 



Ifft 

f^iklr lin^a^«~The Prince of Wales kr net so poptdu; 
SBiong the Orange mefn as he deserv^es to be f inconsequence 
df t&s dfspositioB they think he has Baaiiifestod in fa«KHir of 
ihe eathoKcfi^-wkkh/as thc^ are willing to lighten bim a0 
much' as possible, from the ignonoiay of such degradai&n^ 
ffi they eotteeiv^e it, tbe^^ attrihitteto the influence of Mra^ 
y ■ t. t ^ wbose ^gy i wondeir th^ nevertfabugfat of b«rn« 
iog, Mong wtdb the Pope, and Guy Fawk^.^— We liad aonte 
3«^>per, t}ie esuiet nature of wbidi I was aft g*reat pains to 
verify ; ao much had the bloody gooae UkeA poasesskm 4tf 
rof ima^naljiM, that I saw it in every thing I touched^ At 
tb^ uaforttmate bydrop^bie is said to see the image of tbe 
d0g iriio bit bim, in the driak he attempts to sw^dkwr.*^ 
When i wfts'^hewn to the room, in which I wa»to-sleep>i 
Qould not help- being struck wi^ its dreary aind forlcmi ap* 
peeiraiMe;«^t waid tefge eneugb for a barrack, and seemed 
a barn metamorphosed into^ a bed €ha»iber«<^The wind 
wbis^d dirottgb the broken pfmes> as melancholy, if not nH 
■iiitical;'as an Eettan harp-nit woald have been all iniwlii* 
aUe treasure tx> JMr. Monk Lewir, who has so happily rea- 
med the i^^W^hi^ ind Bloody^boM atorieit of our ihfanejfj 
to fri^ten the* grown children of England— ^ only wanted 
a gwDg of bandkti, a couple or three skeletons, a ghost, and 
a lad^y to iflfivfe nMude it a jewel of an apartment.—^ surveyed 
it with wonder, if not with teiror, andfaad J not beenr arined 
so strong with whiskey punch, (wbich, as an admirdbJd 
weapon for parrying fear, I would recommend to all nay: 
fmr r^deis* who deep in large and lonely apartxnenis) l 
might ha\^ imagmed I saw airy figures ascend: out of thie 
eafth, zAii glide into the remote obscuiity of the room $> 
Axakf illuminated, as God knows it was, by the fiirthtng^ 
^ndie I had placed on a large meal diest, by way of a tabid. 
r-'Whtte is the good rf reading history, somebody says;) if. 
"iie.dd not benefit h^ the exaolplea it cantaiM— -^my reUfa^^ 



MO 

lifts been mostly eonfineil to roBBAiioes«>»«-m bimiUe iaiteiicnt 

tfaere&re^ of herqiaeft to similar sitaations, I l6oked midmF 

. the bed^ancTl^ehiiid the meal^cbest^ l^t an enemy m%hfe 

be lurking there.— —I -woolcl have peeped into k^ for, Vke ^tm 

Trajan hovse, it was \Bxgt enotigfa to hold robbers m it» 

belly, but it was doiAle looked.***-! walked up and down tha % 

mom in pensire nwditadmi.; hut aa theie was no -kokieg 

f^s, I could not start affrighted' at Ae refiseiiaii of aiy 

own im^e, as the.cusloin is on sudi ooea»0!is,«-'iNi*I ooidd 

have wished greatly to have opened the casement^ and ^aed 

at the moon, bat the casemept woiidd not open^ aad .liiece 

was uo mooB ligbtv^^-I thefefarey to do thetfaaal I eouUy 

popt Jiqf head out of one of the borcrftaa panes^'and ladbed>i^ 

llie<stars. Of all the planets, the haroiiie of a ranmnce 

owes the greatest obltgat!o«s to the nioonr--7-the snn, l&e 

ither holiday fiiands, seldom shimes when be is. w»itod ^ hat 

A«e moon never refuses her pale . beams to her votariea.^* 

She is always at hand to- light them on their way, when the^ 

sally foitb at midnight in pursuit of adven€ai«% with iMk 

little bundles tiednpinahandkerehief^ like inimnera^ iqppreft4 

tices. Tired, at kiigth, of star-gaaing, I took oiFmy elodfts^ 

and went to bed-«'^-«such is the advantage a hero possesses 

orer a heroine. Neither Mrsr. Radidiffe, ner Mfs. BcMKsh^ 

wotxld have allowed one of theirs to have taken ^ir etedies 

off for the universe.^-The utmost length they aouM go, (If 

I am correct in my recollection) wottM be to unpin^ 4ieis 

hair, and throw themselves on the bed.-^Whatever' the 

reason may be, a heroine > has as great an aversioli to>get*w 

ting between a pair i>f sheets, as a knight errant of ttid had f 

one advantage^ hawcver| she possesses over Imn, and a gvtat 

one it is, eorsiderlngtha eKpense of washingv^that tboi^ 

she changes her linen as seldom as he does, it is alaa^of 

a dazzling whiteness-r^hls is indispensable 3 her ebeaise/ 

^^Kii]^^ wor&a-naontli^inast look as white fs ^jast piHicbaseA 



lEt ftTcadyHmadefinen^mreliouse.-^Atkyilier essential feftturt 
of a. true faeroine is, that she' never sleeps until the first 
iaysai the. morning gild the hiUs^ and |day on the hars of 
tiie window-'-'^she may be then allowed a few nuMnents of 
trouUed repose, (it is well for Mrs.^ Roaeh that aAie wasn^t 
im irisk^onmn) with faer- head reclined on her IHy habd^ 
^aliefsoioe can sleep in no other attitude) while the other 
grasps some part of her dnqiery*— 4to guard against surprize^ 
I siippdse.-^I't'Wiiold have been well forine had I hadtfae 
elmopbcdaa of those ladies^-f^I should have escaped a great 
fright, which tiras not the less real for being a ludicrous one* 
— ^^I kadei^oyed, for hhontsmhcfixr, the biesain^ of slumber^ 
i^dien I waS^wdte by a noise tfic^ tremendous than tbun^ 
der ;^'t» my teirrified' imagination it seemed like ^he roaring of 
the fiereest Ifon — I starts up, and struck my head against 
vomethmg tlmt felt rough and wmm, and extending my anns 
^n an agony of fear I must confess,) got hold of ears of 
what J si^osed a fefoeious aaimaL«»-It is inconceivable the 
ideas of horror that rushed through my mind — ^I thought it 
was a mad^k^g^ who had some way or other found his way 
to the bed«-'--the bellowing, however, which was in an instant 
treated, nmdje me change my opinion, and I took it for a 
wild bull, who had broke loos^ and wouid^evour me, as the 
red cow dM Tom Thumb. — I jumped out of bed^ and 
endeavotti«d to escape by th$ doca*, but could not find it-^- 
i called loudly for light and assistance^— the bellowing Gon«< 
tinned, tbou^ it did^not seem to quit the spot where I first 
had heard i«*^«between us we made a noise that might 
have bNiken imy steep, except what the last trump 
will waken jas from^— My host at length made Ids 
appearance^ foUowed by his wife, bearing a candle*-— he 
was in his shirt and red night cap, like a Turkish turban—^ 
the fair torch-bearer was in her chemise — ^though assuredly^ 
il was not ^ ime chcmh;e blanche/' — The husband thrust 



,Ae amnleaf a fomliBg piece, (vridch htf caarsied cocked) 
]9io die room, befiore ke entered hiHnselS— 4a tioot be(|ivate 
Ibe imi baU in my near, and the Mscngv partjr ift ftmit^ ff 
ikoHghifc oiysdf is a perilous' sit«atioii«<i>-^Wkeik I had eou 
plaiped' Ae nlutuie cf mj alann, we adiranced n a imty 
to tiie b«l, to discomr the .caiiae.--'*-The- naffaigy mkkh i«ai 
ia<waiat» y pQ Cc cd>dfhm>thepioathofatpd cov^widih^rot 
aa bag aa a daer'8««*-«*bnil-die head only was TissUe ; \um k 
aanrtlitr^ ar'vdkero the bodjr was, was tcrmc totaUj wdoi* 
AsUjgibls^-^BVf hoet after iMlidg on the bed soaaeibieaato in 
a^haanty fit of laughter^ tsfhiatd k to me.-«--WMi dte ciuar 
hMiicaa thattmaikad an his doncotae afra n yMaae n ta^ a cow 
waa iKaaMliiBas tttsned iato die chaaber Ifaat oaaaiwaaiealad 
^akh iQiB^ to savie die bottbia of tdda^ her ta the flftaUe •^~ 
Oim he bad pamhaMd a few dajns before, ata neju^rimirhqi 
iri^had becai canfitied there ever since ;«--^as die ntHa pm^ 
haUy ndt much aecusiboafiicd to Ike in a pariaw*^ it waa iN)t. 

wonderful she wished^ nudw her eseqp« out of it«*^by.dii>i 
of peiaeverance, she foroed a passage for her head, throi^ 
Aiepaitflioa of lath and plaster whi^ separated her ffsai 
the side of my bed.-^Unable to draw her body forwards^ or 
her Jiead backwards, she stuck fast in this pillory of her 
oMHv cr^ition^ and brdse out into the noise I lutve just- been 
aaantiQAing^— ^By enlasglrg. the orifice, we set the psisoiNr 
at liberty, and released her from her disagreeable mdt-r 
£lotfa.-«>-The l^iiits were withdrawn, and I was once mort 
left in soUtade^ endeavouied to sleep, but it was ]mpos-> 
aible^-rthe red cow had. ^ murdered sleep/'^^The moment 
Uie first rays of the morniJ^ were visible from my windows, I 
got up, dressed myself, and sallied forth — I opened the door 
gently, hst my host should awake, and attempt to detain 
me, till afljer breakfast.*-Thei€ was no mistakil^ tk^. road^ 
a$ it ran quite close to the hou^e ; but Itad it been aa diffir 
cviitas.thelabyriflithof Crete, I stho^ We Tentnred oa 



9m ■ 

it, i9«t]iimt evw a tlw to dfitect 910 j 90 facurttty 911^ W9t 
I of tbe s4ga of the red c(^«*-^(iiettiag i^ lit dije d^iwn of 
4ty Mf wbfit I hav^ seldom praeti^ — ^fbi: a few moatMiB, I 
jmmtd Bjd ^Us^ch^ myself wiUmKi Q^aaHig — evefjr feeHos 
of Ivffsitude^ bowi»verf was sqoi^ absorbed in ik» cmtempla^ 
ti^ of the suMijpae specHAcle before iae.<r*JLiigbt and diirkiifist 
^m s^ggkd for iDastery-^-die forioer was. on the top of 
^ hUM — ^the latter rolled its p^ mist l&e a titmbled 
o9ftQ^ oy^ ib^ vaUey«f — It gsaduaUy xiecedad— *-Chao8 g^va 
plf^ tP cveatipQ-^— the featviw of the landscape became 
pore diatiQct*~-Tthe lays of the sun gilded the sides of tha 
^piiomtai^--*-^ few aaoioentsfi afterwwda^ he shot «p iato 
"View Vfce a p^rauM of fiie: — aU luiliiie fete hia hfhumflry 
til^ dfna^ofe hespaiiiM the tm5a***-the haivdman peifoi* 
ip^ i^ agr-r-iiHMWi fwMft hivds f^nred feffth their gndii 
ifld^ fipQP th«ir liltfe ^ioat9-^-it waa the incenae of aaoife* 
%^ f|)Ql9 4)^ eaftji^ to ths beiQg. who gave it bicth^-^^ 
Itimiihe slf^pof tbe tiMrohbuEsiiiigintothereHirrecti^ioC 
iifc^ 

*' Tbe saQroo p(Hirpjr with early bltwbet jpiead. 
Now rose refiilgeat from TltboQas' bed. ; 
With new-born day, to gladden mortal sight. 
And gild the courts of heaven with sacred light." ' 



CHAP, xvm. 



OmA6H. 



I WALKED upwards of five hours without stoppings or 
meeting any person— I was considering that breakfast would 
be no unacceptable occurrence; when I came to a little 



Tillage/ of four or five koases — it is called Ciws-road*, pfo- 
bably because it is situated where several roads meet: — ^iJie 
appearance of the public house, though humble, ^ras iieat^ 
a&d I resolved to enter and have some refreshment. — I wtii 
BOW in the north, and knew I could have whiskey and sweet' 
milk, oaten cake, and fresh butter in abundance.-*-! asked 
the good dame, who came curtsying to meet me, if she" 
could let me have some breakfast — ^ To be sure, I can, 
SiT,^'said she, bustling before me into a little room ofFthekit- 
ehen; ^ what would you choose, tea or cofiee ? My fears new 
all subsided. I found I- had a choice^ when I expected 
neither; to make amends, ^erefore, I ordered both; there 
was no necessity to mention ^gs ; they always come in as a 
matter of course ; a breakfast- without them, wo^d be 
AoQght as preposterous, as a dance wiihbut a fidcBe, or a 
dinner williout potatoes. I was d^ghted with my little 
apfurtmeht ; not only from thfe gmttficatkin that ckanlinem* 
always gives, biit from the sati»factkm I felt at fii(idin|^ 
Englbh neatness, and little pastoral ornaments, tram* 
planted to the bleak mountains of the North of Ireland. Pots 
of geranium were in the window ; the bed in the comer 
was nicely made up, and covered with its many-coloured 
garment. . ' \ . 

" The broken tea-cops^ wisely kept for shew, 
Rang'd o*er the chimney^ gU^ten'd in a row.** 

The weather was now warm, and the heartli beneath was 
(to make use of the words of the same charming poet) 
** with aspin boughs, with flowers and fennel, gay." I 
turned, over some books that were on a table, in the Latin^ 
Greek, and Irish languages. In the latter were sf xeral rituab 
of the Romish worehip. I asked Mrs. A—^^^^^- — ^, if they 
belonged to her. She laughed, and said no 5 she had some- 



thing else to do, than luiiid reading ; I declare to niy GM/^- 
said the good dame, unpinning her flowered cotton gowo^ 
and smootliing it over her pea-green petticoat, ^^ except a 
chapter or two in the testament, one of Blair's sermons, or 
a look into Hervey's Meditations,! don't open a book from 
one week's end to the other/' I had no occasion to q^stioa 
her about her religion ; I knew now very well what she was«>, 
-rl had supped with a member of the estal^lished church 
the evening before— I was breakfitsting, in the house of a 
Prpabyterian. " I thought you might haye been a catholiC|> 
by the books I saw there/' ^^ No, she was a Presbyterian (she 
said) and so were all her ^e-bearert : the books belonged 
to the priest of the parish, who lodged in the house; he 
gave her thirty good pounds a year, for diet and lodgiags 
and, what with his fast^days, when he would eat nothing, and 
feast-days, when he dined dbroad> she seemed to 
think she. had a good bargain." I found this good dame 
the most liberal protestant I yet had met with. ^^ Why, 
should she hate the catholics, (she said in answer to a ques-*. 
tiph I asked her) God made them as well as her ;— for certain' 
their religion was the eldest, and nobody could tell, but h. 
might turn out the best ; — if they were in an arror, that was. 
their own affair, and nobody had a right to meddle with it* 
The catholics were good customers of hef's ; many a good 
pound she had got of their money, and it had thriven 
' with her as well as the protestant's." I had on a black coat, 
and my hair was cut short ; it is not unlikely dierefore she 
took me for a priest, and what I considered liberality was 
only compliment. My manner of eating would probably 
undeceive her; — I keptjao^f— -beside tea,cofiFee, toast, and 
ergs, drank two bowls of cream, and eat a large quantity of 
honey. I paid twenty-pence, and gave a trifle to a comely 
servant-maid who attended me. I suspect the priest had 
other employment here beside counting bis beads, pr 



f06 



reidlitg his ritnal. St Chrysostom would iftoitietidi«s be e^ 
AMgtd for die Art of Lore. 

About a mile from Cross-roads is the village of Emitia^ 
Vale* The coiratiy round it is level ;-*^he fields appear to 
he well cultivated^ and are agreeably intersected With 
hedges I in most parts of die north of Ireland^ the fences 
are fotmed of stones* This village was formerly called 
Scarm^^agh, an Irish wold^ of which I don't know the 
meaning ; — hut which signiies, I suppose, somedifaig for 
which the town is fiimous« All Irish names of piaceS) 1 
believe, are compound^pithets ;^— it is fieimous, faowever^ 
at present, for nothing except its races, which are anaualfy 
held, and continue several days : I should suppose they aiu 
mostly attended by the neighbouring formers, and rustte 
jochies, who run for bridles and saddles : it draws toge* 
dier a considerable cfticourse of peofrie, I learn ; — av^ 
drunken assemblage, I have no doubt, it generally proves to 
be :— «some years ago, it was likewise a very qu^rrebomis 
mie; every man, on leaving home, drew from its hidit^pkee, 
his trusty sMIelah ; and, a:s Bacchus, not Venus, was his 
^inity, the club of Hercules never became in his hamb 
a woman's distaff. The custcmi of carrying shilekhs is 
still continued ; but the lise of them is almost entirely 
abandoned***except a few boxing matches, no other quarrels 
occur. The magistrates of this, and, I bcKeve, of every 
other part of the north of Ireland, have been unremitdng 
in their exertions, to put down dub law, and to put law in 
its place. As the country becomes refined, Irish names be* 
come obsolete j they are too rough ** for ears polite." I waf 
eiirious, however, to learn the etymafogy of Scamagen^h; 
X overtook a middle-aged man, decendy dressed, and asked 
him if he could inform me. " I dinna ken,'' said he : ** I 
canna ^lofc^ Erish — I would never fash myself with it; 
for, to teU you a secret, X neither love it, iior the breed 



tbi^ ipiAvs it."—" That's a {sectcVV I replied, '^ 1 ahottM 
n^ver have suspected ; are you not an Irishman yourself ?'^ 
^ In troth, fKid I'm nane ; 1, and ow my generation, ha gone 
to meeting this fowr hundred years." — " Th^ must have 
^en a cleyeir generation indeed," said I " to Hiave gone ta 
loeeting a hundred years hefore there was any^ — ^VVhere was 
you bom ?" " in ycm wee hoo$e," said he, " on the tqp o'Ae 
brae^ with the auld tree our it ;*-^jfm ye &ae time to sttfi 
liip, the fluid wife will be able, to gie us a bunnock, and ft 
drnp of buttermilk. By the Eriah he meant the naiive 
Irish, or ^e catholics : — his ancestors probably wem 
aettled a century among them ; yet he spoke and thought 
«f them, exactly as a Scotchman would have done* The 
manner of his expression involved what may be termed a 
bull — ^yet it is a bull grave and sober Englishmen bav^. 
committed. Sir John Davis, speaking of the city of Kilken^ 
i^y, says, ^^ th^e are more Englishmen born in it, than in nsxf 
<>ther city in Ireland." — ^The protestant coal merchants of 
Publin, about one hundred years ago, presented a petitioa 
to the Irish house of lords, ccMuplaining of the hardships 
^Mir trade sustained, by the means of one Darby Mokmy^ 
who drew all their customers from them^'-^though.be was a 
notorious papist and Irishman. Tlie house of lords took 
dus notable grievance into serious deliberation; what 
decision their wisdom came to on the subject, I have nevei^ 
learned* I was overtaken about half a mile bey<md the 
town by a gentleman's servant driving a jaunting. car — after 
bidding me good-morrow, wliich is a c^emony never: 
omitted on an Irish road, he offered me a seat, which I 
readily accepted — I n^as not &tigued with the road, but I 
was with myself ; I was tired of my own thoughts, anfi, 
wanted company. The servant, with the usu$d eourtesey, 
of the Irish, gave me much information abo>ut himself 
before be ventured oi; asking me any questions ] I expected 



i08 

dien^ to tuiTe t6 give a full, true, and particular acccunt of 
my birth, parentage, and education — I was disappointed^ 
fce asked me only one question about myself-*-where I 
lived ? I told him, the most of my time in Lon4on :-— thecf 
I had seen Sir Francis Burdett, he supposed ; I told hiitf 
I had, several times ; and had I seen him the day be camcf 
out of the Tower ? I expected it, I said, and took a stand 
for that purpose upon land ; but the weather was wamt^ 
and he went by water-*— as no doubt you have heard — Good 
jOian, good man, — he had heard it— 'he wouldn't rkk 
the peace of the city — he wouldn't endanger the lives of 
the people, naugh, not even of his enemies — though they 
had done wliat they could to take away his ; and had shut 
him up, for eight long weeks, in a narrow Tower where he 
hadn't room to turn himself* Had I ever spoke to him, he 
asked — Never^ I said, I had no acquaintance with him« 
.*-« fFhat a thaty wJuxt a that, wasn't I m the same town 
with him-'r-^oh geinine, gemine, if I was within forty miles, 
wouldn't I walk them barefooted, only to set my two eye* 
on him«''— ''He then asked me a number of minute questions^ 
about his height, age, person, dress, ^^ith an eagemest* 
which shewed the enthusiasm with which he dierishedP 
the idea of this popular baronet**— "The ladies are all far 
Wm, to a tnofi," said I ; ** he is very handsome, therefore, of 
course ; you know they never take the side of ugly fcHows.** 
— '* Handsome is, that handsome does," said he ; ^ and if 
he was as ugly as Black Bess, that I'm driving here, I would 
take his side/' — *^Heis lucky in having such a friend, "Isaid I, 
•*but as he says he is the friend of thepeople, itis natural yoo 
iifaouldbe his." — "I think," said he, drawing himself up with 
dignity^ ** be is the friend of tlie poor, and can't bear to see how 
theyare ill used — and that's what I love him for, because few 
of your gentlefolks think about them. Now here's myself;' 
^s lung as I'ln stout and hearty, and can drive iOie car. 



209 

and do my work^ . I have a liver; put on toe, and get 
something to eat^but if I was to become ould and useless, my 
master would turn me out to rot In the fields as he yesterday 
did the ould bay Hunter, that carried him over ditch and 
gate for so many years.** — *^ Your master was- a brute^ 
then,'' said I^ " not half so valuable a one as the animal 
that carried him/*-— ^^ He has three thousand a year, and 
drinks clayet like a Son of Mars; but Sir Francis has twenty 
thousand, I warrant ye, and drii\ks no claret, but lays out 
h^ money in buying, shoes and books^ and giving porter, 
and bread and cheese, to the poor people about him : did 
you read the story of his goodness, to his wife's waiting 
maid, who had 9ii'ould mother to support ?" — I told him 
I had. " There's a genUeman for you,'* proceeded he, 
with exultation : — (I cautioned him to sit steady, lest he 
should tumble off) — *^ there's a gentleman worth fighting 
for; by the Holy Father, (his very oath, as I have in, 
relating this conversaticm made use of his own words, as 
{ar as I could recollect them) I would wade up to my 
knees in blood for him ; but these London capons have no 
spirit, or they would'nt have given him up so domily L 
^easily) — ogh, ogh, if some of o\a barony boys had been 
there^ we would have shewn them the difference ; we 
would'nt have hung our tails and ran away, as those roast 
beef and plumb-pudding fellows did.'/ " National vanity 
is a perfect Proteus : it founds itself in some countries on 
those properties which are the most despised in others: — an 
Englishman looks down with contempt on his iU-clad^ 
and, as he thinks, worse-fed, brother Pat; nor are his 
1)ulls, and his blunders, greater subjects of merriment to 
him, than his potatoes and buttermilk. All Pat's jesl8» 
on the other hand, are levelled at, what he thinks, the 
ahades in his brother John's character — his glutton)) 
and uiiwieldiness-«-bis roast beef, fat pork, and strong 

p 



210 

aIe-«-«hisred face, and big belly :" he de^|>is^ hiin as ftli ov^ 
fed and inanimate bog, who is afraid to facei^ger, ani^ 
tinable to bear fatigue ; and attributes the successes of flk 
navy and army^ to his own courage and exertions. Wc 
conversed afterwards on a variety of political occurrences^ 
\vith the most minute circun^tances of whieli I fbliba 
him thoroughly acquainted,-- ^tf his information was pecvL- 
liar to himself, he was an extraordinary youtig iMn; If 
tt is general among the Catholics^ there is some 'extmof't 
dinary system at woric among tfiem ;—• curious to Icnow ho^ 
he acquired it, I asked him a number of questions, s<Mile 
of which he answered, and others he did not : — I a^lced idia 
what newspaper he read?-— "The devila liewspliper il^'I 
tead, (said he) or pa|>er of any kind^ for t don*t k&ow'a*fi 
from a bulFs foot^ thanks to my father for it, w1k> Is ndw 
linder the sod, rest his sowl :— but I listen when I Wait at 
tdble^ to what the gentlemen lire saying, and ^ariify Gld«- 
laghar reads the paper to us at nights, at the Smithes foi^, 
and gets two ten-pennys a week for reading, ' be^d^ lfi6 
t>apers into the bargain/' — ^•^ AVKat idoes your iriedd ISarney 
think of the thnes," said I, — « Think/^ ^clateied he, ^^ whtt 
can any sensible man think ? but they are as bad, as bad 
can be: — when "things are kt the worst, they'll ni^n^ 
Jiowcver: it' is a long lane that has no tttmirig, — its queer 
corn that*s never cut down.-— Arrah Billy, my dkrfiirig, ybu^ 
weather *d the storm did'nt you; — you put the <^lt^pk« 
down didn't you,-— you hanged and nogged ' illid trafts- 
ported them,— -you should have choaked their ehitdr^, 
too, in the criadle 5 but tiever mind, my jewel, you ai'e ti0w 
In your grave, aiid some of us may live to dance iipoELlit*'* 
We had now travelled about live or six -miles ^ogether^ 

fend were to separate. 1 oflFered him some tSdn^Y, 

which be rejected with impatience.— *" He 'hdffnffekcci 
Itoe to ride, for any thing he would make by'^'1^l%f^e 



I, ^Jim mmt nstfmpydih dry li|M; ktns step kota liiis 
house and haire a ^u»^ aMifiiivluut.'' He agreed iea^ 
^ Ihk propoftition.^-*! poiuml .oot a glass of v^mhsy, 
f * Coaie/'saidJs ^^jbuerefstbehegdliiiof SirErKicis; youwoii!t 
sdhme todxiaikit ?''-"-^^< K^it waa ^alts, dowuit would go.ia a 
h^XBop^y (aaid he^) here's his health hylattd aadby wader, 
cm bill and ia vaUey ; may he never be ivorse than. I wuh 
him* — 0<^h, when yoii go b&clc td l40odbQ9 if eYeryon 
.meet widi-him, will you 'tell him that om hoys aie- all on 
his 8ide?-^lhe gentry^ to be .stBe^-^«*but heliveaataian^ 
.ithem, as Well ai5. 1 d(^ and kaows what kindrof stuff theyW 
made ^Y •<— 4:hey^re podr blood, ^^miK^kle ciy> and; little 
ynilljt as the saying is t-^-^if it ever comes to that, I woald 
arrive baif a dozen of them before aae, as easHy as I drive 
4iiy mastei^s earmge/'*— .We parted with great kindness,—- 
lie w»^ the left hand road, whieh led to Augber^-^I wa&ed 
4o Aughnaeloy, which was about a mile diitantk-^Aiigbnacloy 
4s (Htoated on an eminence, as most n(»1:h country towns 
«re i—thk' is eqiiaSy eonducive to health and beauty.— It is 
probable, however^ it had not its origin in. those con- 
«aiderations, but in die more piuramount ones of aece^iEaty 
'^and HBCcurityv— In the barbarous times,' when the foun- 
dations 'of tibese towns were laid, the country was a prey 
/to anaiehy .and ^Msorder, aad peaceful men erected their 
■, kayiati<mB^ as near as possible to the forts and castles, 
ftdm which they lodied for safety and proteetion«-«>From the 
neglect of agiiculture, likewise, the natural ccmseqiience 
' 4of perp^»al wat&re, the rains of so maiiy ages subsiding 
to the lower grounds, converted many of the extensive 
plains into mossy morasses, as incapable of giving nou- 
^hment, as siistidning llie habitaUaus of men.— So genemi 
^has this been, that near a tenth part of thia beautiful 
ykind ii btfcoma a pepositooy Sm stagnated waters >«hi aad 

r5* 



but feithful memorial of the Woes she has undergone ?-^ 
there is a linen market held here on Wednesday^^th^ 
inhabitants ar£ mostly presbyterians^ it is unnecessary to adi^ 
therefore, that they are industrious^ and live very comfort*^ 
ably.— There are two inns, one of them lately built ;•— $ 
stately mansion, so bespangled ^mth windows, thatasttie 
sun shone oh them, it resembled a great looking glass,-* 
there was an immense sign in front, so gay and so gaiidy, $• 
covered with gilding, that it looked like an angel in a puppet 
show, or a patron saint, dressed out for a procession.— Hiis 
was too fine a house for me, I therefore walked into one 
of a less pretending' appearance; there was not so srack 
tinsel without, and I expected more substance within :***! 
was shewn into a decent parlour, and on my enquiring 
what I could have for dinner, the lady of the house tmeBt 
her appearance : — I asked her a number of questkms aboat 
,the country :— she was a woman, and a Mildow ; it is - nol 
wondeiful, therefore, she was not averse to cmiversition,— 
but wliat is wonderful, she told me nothing but goOd Of 
Y^er neighbours. The people of Aughnacloy are all angel^ 
if I am to judge them by her chatacter : an English land- 
lady, I suspect, would not have given her townspeople- so 
much ** con anwre." I ccHiversed ivith hef till dinner was 
ready, it consisted of fish, roast lamb, and sweatmeatt : I waa 
charged two shillings, and the same for a pint of port,-*-I wi^ 
not astonished at finding it good, — the wine in Ireland isunt 
versally so, — I remember dining at a ceiebilited tavein i|| 
Loiih^n, in April last ; I had a pint of something they were 
pleased to term port, though like Bayes's prcdogu^ it would 
have suited any other name as well. ^^ Which of these ctecaiir 
texs is tlie vinegar?" said I to the waiter. " This is it. Sir," 
answered he, impudently adding, ^^ you see it is mmh 
clearer coloured than the wine." ^' And todo the wine juatie^, 
my lad," jnid I, *^ it is mUch sourer .thiw the ?in«g?irv* 
The principal Jand proprietor abo^t Au^macloy, is the 



Earl of Cdedon; he is, at present, at the c^ of Good 
.Hope, oi which. he is governor; he is a young man of 
mniable dispositions, and, I am told, an excellent landlord : 
. h^ was colonel of the Tirone militia, and lived very much 
wiith his. regiment, by whom he was greatly beloved : his 
father was the son of a respectable man in the middle rank 
of life, in the county of Derry. — At an early age lifef'went 
'lo India, where be amassed an immense fortune : whether 
fhi9 peerage W{^ purchased by a part of it, or was given 
,him as a reward for his services there, I have never learned. 
;Mi:« H* Alexwider, late chairman of the committee of ways 
jmA means, is a cousin of his lordship's, and accompanied 
: bitn tp . the Cape ; . he is a man of great goodness of heart| 
^tid in. conjunction with Lord Castlereagh, was the means 
pC.procuring, a few yeajrs ago, for the Presbyterian cler- 
gymen of Ireland, am augmentation of their salary from 
goveriljpeRt:— this tvas <l measure of good policy, as well 
.9S qf justice, and was ! not thrbwn away on that reverend 
;bo4y« I an^used myseV with my wine, till the distant hom 
JMdHoiaiieed the. approach of the^ coach I wais waiting foi^s 
I wjfh^ to. get to Omagh tliat nigbt, but was disappc^ted, 
;lhe. co^h wsis completely filled in the inside, and [nearly 
,i»o.oiijtside. Had the, company, however, been of a moire 
.p^^BQ^H^sing appearance, I should have squeezed myself 
among theaoi, but tjiey were noisy and drunken, and scented 
to ha^e Jbeen (quarrelling.. Tl\e roof of a coach i^ almost 
M. y^dt^MHi a place to quarrel on, as the yards of a ship, 
• wl^ere I onpe saw a desperate bajttle between two sailor^ ; 
J avoid . it in general, — I shrink fro»i the rude familiarity it 
.j^ulge^s one to, and I candidly confess I am apprehensive, 
when seated ^n this lofty pinniaicle of greatness, (as is to be 
^prehended on ev^ry seat of ^eatness) of coming head- 
long do^n. 
Tl^.ins^nt the opacb moyed away, | moved after it; -«- 



\ 



ft4 

ilie Ubr^si feei tead^ n piedigioiis tfktterj; ttd ihe oniside 
fsMengers tongues^ a stitt gre«ter thin th^ ;-^^they hH 
^lled for some whiske j, — to drink it wm ewf, — fKym&kt 
xm the difficulty^«*^tbey disputed It so long, that tiie c^adi- 
tdan lost tfis pctietice^ and die wonuin of the hoitse her 
money ; he 6iit the biH^ as well as the afgimeat abnrty h^ 
driving away, 

I arrived at Balltgawly, a little town wlteve I meant t> 
titop for the; nighty about deven in the eveniftg. I had wq 
iiifllcalty in finding out the Inn, for Aete waa only «m, 
and a shabliy looking one it was. — Inns^ no tton^ howevor^ 
than men or women^ are tb he jndgtsd by ^tttside Bfptu^ 
Intoe. It was a little Edeii t<4thin, or my fMgtte laide iie 
find It to, whiek is just the same ihit^. — ^A man who j^stk 
HAttf miles in bis charibt, is g^eraUy fiistidkMa-Ma man 
#hd walk6 diem, havdly ever so, — he is ft%te4 and IkA 
a Aeal chair a luxury---h^ iA tkirs^, and wkiafeey and wiel* 
is nectar; he is hungry, and a b<^led goose tirid^ oniim Hains^ 
^itty Mppei) is moie ddinidus than venison |-«-|^irea!tness 
^oblfldoweH sohietim^s to thmk ontUs. — ^Ilbfiitttkmie 
bf tife littlie room \vas decent^ and every tki^g pnrfeetfy 
elean. Geraniiims were in the windown^ v^ltm mfld 
beauty, and gentle ftagrance, gave a rural appeagance to 
the place;— There were some lodicrons prilMs tmmdtkfe 
rootai — one of Parson Adams, and Pu^on TrnllSber-^ 
flfnother of Sophia, fiillen from lunisebach, laktn fimn 
Tbm Jones : — ^There was a ciipital display df Jkekl^ iH this . 
print — ^Angiolihi could not haive eitceeded it, Hrh^ i\m 
capers the h%hest. It ^as harmless, howei!«r,-*the iegi 
were as thick, as a citizen V in a dn^sly, and thelhce n 
frightful as^ Medusa's.-— It would have been impossible fb 
have recc^nised the lovely Sophia, but for the Idlid infers 
matioQ of the engraver — I requested the loan of a boeik 
'^tn ih& l^dlord— >1ie i^nt me up two, Baxter^ caU 



, to t^ uaemrerted, ^d WiUbon on the sa<arment — which 
fper^ his whole library^ except the Bible^ and Psalm book* 
A little afterwards the maid brought me in another, — it stood 
to reason, t^ goo4 ipan c^ the house said, that after so 
Jo^ walk, I would prefer somediing Umghey (entertaining,) 
and^ besides, gentlemen in the army never read godly books, 
I^ seemed he took me for a captijjp of horse. — Why ho 
4]iQU[d do so I am at a loss to determine — ^It could not be 
heeai^ I came on foot — I was willing to exchange the 
wiNrk in my han4 for the one brought me. It was a voliune 
of plarlssa Hadowe-^-a book as imiversally met with, as 
7om Jones, or Don Quixotte* — ^An ingenious author of 
Ifi^ffis, I recollect reading when a boy, gives the preference * 
in pathos to the English, above all other writers : He says, 
f' 1 ^ not believe any language, ancient or modern, can 
ahew three traits equal to the following — the first is, the 
^iis^ieir of JuH^ to the tyxannical Capulet.'^ 

'' It there no pity sktiflg hi the dkNidf , 
'^ Thai: sees ioto the bottom of my grief ? 
*' Qfa i sweet, my mother, cast me not aw^." 

The nest is from Otway. When Jaffier gives Belvtdera 

to Renault, and gives him with her a dagger, desiring hiagi 

when she j»x>ve8 unworthy, to strike it to her heart, Bel- 

Tidera answers. 

*' O thou unkind one J 

• • . • Have I deserved this from you ? 

L9<^ on me^ tell me, 
" Why am I separated from tby love ? 
f' If I am false, accuse me ; but if true,. 
^* Don'tj pritbee don't, in poverty forsake me, 
" But pity the sad heart that's torn with parting.*" 

The thir4 is from Clarissa. After she has escaped from 
jpovelace, and is lodged at a glove shop. King-street, Covent 
garden, she lyrites a letter to her nurse, Mrs. Norton, in 
which are these words : <M am afraid my poolr, u\ ua^ 



44 



2X6 

to call th« good creatures to whose necessities I was vnat0^ 
to administer by your faithful hands, have missed me of 
late. But now, alas ! I am poor myself/* ^ 

In the volume before me« which contains Belford's ac« 
count of the prison scene, which Clarissa, in one of htt^ 
subsequent letters, calls a large death stride, — still more 
striking instances I tNMc might be found. — I will not in- 
jure their beauty by quoting them. — It would be impossible 
to judge them fairly without the context ; — ^The foUowmg 

however, should be engraved in letters of gold, and hung * 

• 

up in the chambers of all calculating statesmen, and bar- 
barous conquerors, — they have no feeling for others ; k 
might teach them to have some for themselves. — *^ If God 
will judge us, (as we are taught to believe) in a great mea- 
sure, by our good, or our evil actions, one to another,- O 
wretch, bethink thee, in time bethink diee, how great iomst 
be thy condemnation,^' The tragedy of Lear, abomdt 

likewise in the pathetic, i have never read wi&ont emo- 
tion, the last scene of the fourth act, where Lear islsrougkt 
in sleeping in a chair, to Cordelia. When he awakes, hSs 
intelkets are still wavering, and Cordelia CKc}aims,-r#>^^ Still, 
stiU, ffur wide. Lear says, 

*' Pray do not mock me, 

'' For, as I am a man, I think this lady 

*' To be ray child Cordelia. 
Cor. '' And sol am, 1 am. 
Lear. Be yoor tears wet ? Yes, faith«— -I pray, weep niot : 

If you have pgison for me, I will drink it. 

I know you do not love me j for your sisters 

Have, as I do remember, done me wrong s 

You have some cause, they have not. 
Cor. No cause. No cause. 

The heart-rending repetition of full-fraught grief, in the 
answers of Cordelia, must strike every person of sensibility; 
yet I have never seen an actress in the part who seemed 
to comprehend it^ but mumbled it over with as mi^ch 



•^v 



4RMEsrenee as she fk)e;5 her prayers»-*if the ever says rny. 
If is in the display of pathos, indeed, I think both actors 
and actresses generally £iU. In rage, in terror, in horrcn*, 
in loiid-tongued tlistress, in the broad light and shade of the 
Iplssions, they are often successful oc^yists; but in the 
mofC'deHcftte, and less obtriKsive touches of sorrow, they 
seMom are so : the reason of this I IMl' is obrious ; and I 
am sorry for it, for the sake of a profession I am attached to 
frcnn prejudice, perhaps, more than reason: a player is 
seldom a man of seosiUfity, and as seltaa a man of 
gtoiits : nattire is pisetty unifDrm in h^ gifts to her soni^ 
and vety opposite qualities are seldom united in the 
siine person ;--*where she giv«s great ddicacy of somes 
orgaas, she gives great ohtuseness of others; where ^e gives 
grieat powers of mind, she counta-balances them, by great* 
irritability of temperament^ and gveat bodily dkadvant^gcs. 
Almost all men of genius are sickly, deformed, mdaa^- 
choly, awkward, and unaccommodalatig: Men of great 
beauty, great strength, great agility, as seldom possess great, 
mental pOwers-^an admirable Grichten is a phoenom^ion, 
that does not occi^r once in ten eentuiies. The essence dP 
a player is flexibility of feature and vmee, the power of 
imitation, the power of mimickry. A player is a mimic-** 
he is not a person who feels, a poet who conoeives, but 
i^ painter who copies*-- «aQ Artist who puts the 
rule and line to passion, and by a happy knack of 
imitation, gives an idea of it to others^-^^he gives £urly what 
he catchy, but innumerable little beauties, the varied tints 
of hope alia fear, of joy and sorrow, as like the changing 
colours of a lutestring, they blend and mmgle with each 
other, he does not give, because he does not perceive 
them ; his imitative powers are great, his perceptive ones are 
small — his mental eye is not acute, it is not microscopic*— 
he is a telescope, through which we only look at large and 
iUstant objects. Garrick, with all his imitative powers, has 




Ml (mt Kne in tike nian^^ooB pvodiiGtiMis ol W 0% « 
«if ^ensybjliijr would wUh t^ ^iaim fer hk owfi. fiy^i^YfEi i^ 
fgft^mkm of those piMioiis be im^tm H^ tl^MW Mf %f 
<ki05 the "player fidt ^c»t of Qiitiiie itself — ^i^9W %r If- ^; 
fflliiit^if it from the wajiif, the eopy.^m the qi^^i^i 
foism «0em« his soibov^ his fr^ii^, ^ bipii^ hiK «WP 
«pmiw^ leal frenzy ! hunr fiopr U the coferi^g og t^ d|ii«|r- 
i|i0Ti«»cmi9 to oatufe's own c^rpet^ gs^p— *h<^ poor if tlie 
lose of ^e AEtist, to the rose th^t gfo^ cp th^ ^ifik; kpf9f 
foot is the aamiutf^t nigfatii^iitlQy to Um Mrho 1^ h9SM4 
the i^htiDgale itself. Some jeu9 9gfH whe^ in this qo^- 
t(f las^ I vac Tempested by a Surgeon of ijxf acquaiiitaiHTj; 
te gftabNig nA him, ifco see » ytrnm. gm^iexpmf #o Y99h 
wnnddi hgr ike ^ecideotal gmg of of |i ^^^Jt^G^-peef^ ^^ 
iaifeesiigatien «e fimn^ liie .MrouD4 ifiortjil ; the «^.|i9|l, 

had Joined mmyyttmfdBg oflfefs of ^f«i§mf^^ i^hpoe^t 40 
atejT |rt home mA fab oiolfac^; she w^s 91 wUk>w«^*hf |ij|| 
her enfy aon-^-he wm M she h^ 4fm W^ IW^r 1^ 
avhedioio the room where yfe.¥mfi cqm^Uiag ihffjjyir 9^ 
dbhcmBecl^hi!^ eye wes Jved— :sh^ <^oiiM )»qt ligeaifc-rfdie 
eoidiiMM flag^^«-^hm% she s«sime4 to Jmn^^i j^. c^fMr 
^dosetup io .11S9 dbe fell oD^ber Jkn^ss hefere v|s-T-llAJ$t^ h|^ 
heikds^eliifped^ Ae loohed up ia owr .facf?f> » do;jjbt%gs ta 
toqake the Me .of her s<m« O! whsA a fycej^^jf^^a^t^-^ 
«liat^aooniiteiia]M>c&rtheplafert^ tmi^uof^ 

httVB been found cool enough to emteno^ate it| esrm^ kt 
tranneot gknce, (I cqnld take po oftber) w^^i^otpoe ^ 
scnoir.: aeiGer9i«never> mey.J vieinr such aao^ier. I wc^dkd 
hsregiiren ike work}/ had I posse^^ed it^ oouU I bife rais^ 
die wretched in0iiraer-^-c<»ild I h^ve spoke J|pf(q)i:'>'--wl»ei99 
Aeie was no hope ^ jshe 9aw it in W9 lode, though she heard 
knot frommy tQDgne. She tfacew herself 00 tbeeartih— t 



4ltfi\itiSB^gmmAf-*AtmBei herattf up^ i^^; die b«vk 
faer hmmt^ she tsB€ her haif ; sbi cttted to Iset liii»hMi4 b}^ Ui 
tMti€k'-4ii$^^ hxpfffy Imspfsy ! y»u «» ia j^wr gnsv^, nodi 
^ iiot liTe to see Ats.: ebekoicei iqp te Heaven^ a»itf appr 
Plifif to its justice ; God, God^ ysn wonU not} I1Q> »s^ 
nbi sorefef yoa mftuM not be lo (»wl-^3f«tt will not tfdi;e tfat 



Omagr* 

I AWCMKE'dieoextfiftoRibsg^ liftev tipe)?eli0imt>f undiiiBiiK 
ed fqpofte; I had wtodesedsolcsog wer li^adi ^ad n^piiata^ 
tiiet my beard vw m long as aGiieA pitriar€h'« $ I ae^t % 
a barberto esliieate me fsam it| an elderly amif lapji^ $f #. 
kjl^ tod widi a deftet m one of Us qpes, like^a Mi^gmmB 
Cnpid^ »a^ his appeawMf afirv m(Ni|eaits.«l)^pr«iiw^ : ^^4 
Cltigymaa I pmmmi^ Sm^'* aaidbe^ ^^ by ^ colf^^yiTilp 
€lo&/'-<^^es/' Uaid/1 wasirf^Ml»iefor iRSot^^ 
« Aiidajbrsr«radek i% fiur,'' siedbe^ ^^ tease ^ladej A«wp^ 

resfleetedittliiiswoili^ aadbe has ae£(dracAeaee^obe<oM9f 
mtfae acsEt^ as ii^of his oeighhours : tbeipe's our am d#isF* 
man (eeetfaraed he) as ,gmd a 8«rari as e^er broke hceadi 
pwachoi tma hours together wkhoiit ever dranwg bndl% 
and has Oft ibe omU aadnewTealamieiitat his fingess' e»d% 
fr^pm <xe9e9is to Ae B^^velatiQiis j leotUFes opi the seve^i 
ebiirakes> aod on. the sovoo eaadfestieks, m p9lt as if it; ivfui 
the gospd oSt. iiidce; \&^ but ooe fiyolt ia the world ; he's 
our fofidof die iseeibtip.'"^^ That's agreatfiailtinaClei^flMH^f 
I said. '^Gmd asas^ gmd man^ it waa naMn^ to the eongrer 
gation^ if it was na for the slights of otiieffs-— they wquld 
aa arind it gm he was to ha dntnk, ^ be was near bimrsting; 
* b«t then it ym» what other jSoett saidr-*C^i^ o^ maD^ the pa* 



fkik, mi the htgfa Jcirk, hold oat du^ &xgen at u% 
pbeus Mxcy sore, on Ub ^aceon&t.'' lofd^eda ghiss of 
vduskey to odctifoft this. tender*>hearted Rresbyteriim^ aad 
sent hnn away perfectly happy-<-*-fpii I eiser preached wilhin 
ten miles o that, he would eomeia the wwf- on ibet t» hwt 
B^. The nleDtiea |ie made of the.RefelaticiDs recited to 
my mind a stoiy I heard of an unfortunate .enduisiasl^ ef 
the name of Russell, who was executed at Downpatridi, in 
the year 1808, for being concerned in the InsurrecrtioB 'of 
that period; before the Judge passed sentence on him, he 
requested leave to say a few words — he did not expect Vk 
he said, he did not desire it — but he had been long engi^di 
ia wriliBga oommentaiy on the* KevelataoBs, and had'.iK^v 
kmight it near a conchmion ; if his kNrdship wouU idloii 
Um a few weeks to finish it; he would foex)bJi|ged.to him; 
Had his kMrdthip allowed 4iim, ^till he had isueoGfiededhi 
king'tlKs portion of- Scripture iateUlgiUe^ heppbi^ 
would have lived as long^as any pmoa hi<eaurt..> »JhitpriUe 
mtsfdrtune had iSke io have befeUen mein this {laQS|;'«^i^ 
if after WvelliBg so leag toge^er^ the imder did net rtgi^ 
I riiouid^ave a very M 'o|rf«ion, eilher Hf hhn, t»tai;»ctf t 1 
had walked about- half a mile, when I ^ar^ a voie^ catt^g 
fimn the Ull I had just deseended--^Gaptiliiir Xllil^pliui^i an 
instant ttftierwards, your Reverence Slop, stopyAtaialjd 
eoneeive to what Rclverend Captaip afl: Ais towliag*; 
addressed ; when Ae girl of the houae I just h«i*^Qittedy 
eame up all out of breath,, and I found it^ was i0 «iyaei#t 
she had formed a compound idea of me,, fi^dn^ tlaevn^di 
ideas of her joaaster and the bttrbef: '^Sir, Sir,'' said skf^^y^Mi 
fesrgot your pocket-book ; but whether it hmlds gM^ ar 
bank-notes, €Uis^ safe«^-its9iatbel]ghterforine/''^i^<frhati4mi 
sure it is not, mygood girl,*' saidI.<**-The booked net contain 
the kind of treasure she imagined ; the keepii^ it ifwihl 
have luwgfat ejariched her^ but made me poor indeed* it 



cbntai&ed neither Bank of Bngkncl or Bank of Irelaiid 
i^es^r-i^Uttt notes and obs^rvfttions^ infant thoughts, and 
hatf-fernied ideas, for the bode I am wtitfng. — I am rigbt 
glad no wag found my pockbi^ bhdok. My intention, ^n 
living Balligaw}yj was to walk to this town ; after I* had 
walked a mile, bowei^r, my old enemy, the fi^, came in 
Uttch torrents^ as to put that prometuufe out of the question : 
— wbeme it came from, I am at a lofts to conjecture, as tiie 
sky was as bright as a looking glass about five minufes 
before. — My road lay through a: turf bog, piobably at the 
best of, times, not very dryi a few moments conttnuasice 
of the shower made it almost impas8able**-*A turf bog 
ae¥er stands in need of rain^ it is likeseading coals to 
Newcastle* I stept into a cabin which, by good luck, was 
on the road side. — It was I'eally good luck, for iittre wasii 
laige dunghill in front, which neiMrly Md it from view. — 3y 
mdcing a detour, however, and stoqping very low at the 
threshold I got into the house.--^-^ I am eome,'' I said, ^^ to 
seek some shelter till the rain is over/»— ^'^ And why iiot'% 
and tin thousand welcomes into the bai^in ;" said the maut 
of the liouse, starting up ; — ^^ shMsijy draw his hoitotr a 
creepy." (a small stool.)*— I knew now I was the guest 
of a catholic.*- *The dunghill was suspicious :-- ^your hofwrnr^ 
sras decisive. A Protestant never gives thiis appeUatton 
lightly,-— a pr^byterian never gives it at alL-*-The cabin 
consisted of a kitdhen, and room off it. — It was not 
cleanly certainly,-^nor was it squalidly dirty: there was 
a good turf fire blazing cm the hearth, and several noggins; 
porringers, and a few plates were on the dresser.— ^Stools* m 
abundance, likewise, and one chair. The latter was cra^y, 
bcywever, and seemed an article of state, rather than utility* 
—Yet this was the habitation of a pcj^sant* of the 
lowest order. The ^man's name was Mfi Lai^hlin. 
J>f ae^ I believe, in ancient times, prefixed to a mmh 



llgriUkd ygmMt^moBf or tord, asO^ pifnce/or'aiafAtf 
llie UgbiSit eUus. Some of his tncestois, prebaMy^ heH 
tbeikiid oto ^ieh he mm lived a^pmr cotter/ The '^sattigt 
of |irop6fty in Ireland is alm^t ineoiiceivrijie. The 
tescAdjdAltts of the ancient inhabitants, are now otif 'Hbt 
dr^ df the pec^e. The wlieelxrf human idfairs^ lioir- 
sUfir, 'lsip^)^t«idly^ tamkifi^y and no pei^son can tell MAseit 
ito^^eirokltion mny bring Aem agmn. He wasisinokhlg 
nAen I dimrtfd ; after wiping the pipe, he ciTflly olfesed 
itio^Me^aMd'Oniny deditting it^ handed if to. his wffe. 1 
a*0d fora drink tf ^^water : <^ Shusy," said he, ^^ hand the 
gentl^&iatt'a nc^gin of milk." <^ I wish^'* sadd tWpoar 
MMBMai, as'^he brought it to me, it "i^as butter,* for yodr 
iake.-*-This is a strange, but it is a pastoral idea, Job, 

'llioiigh iie did not 4rmk butter, made almostassifiqgblat 
an»e of it. *^ O %hat I were,".* exdaimed tie,' ** as ifrmoBAi 
pasty'^as in the days when God -preserved me. ' WlMh 
I^washed my steps with butter, and the roeks poured -me 
M&rivcfi if ml;*' ** 'Hiese mountains of yror's," saMI^ 
*^ are "very dreary and solitary; many a robbery^iaa-lieien 
eoftSmSl^ in diem, I dare say/' ^' Many a one f Irov, 
•aid "he, ^* but ndt just of young days : (he meant laifely) 
I > hare heard tny father tell many a long story t>f wbrt 
happ««id, when he was a boy/' I endeavour^ to get Mm 
to rdc^ect^me of them ; but he'said he cofdd na/^^di^f 
had 6Ki' escaped his reeoUection. Hiere was* a tei^>or mM 
&fl^^ness- about this poor creature, not unusual mn»jm^ 
llfeh-peesants. ^ Travellers have often met-witfc it, ^nd 

irtth the pert flippancy of presumptuous - ignoran^ee^ 4iafe 
liSiNl' at ' it^ as inherent, and constitutionaMaziaess. ft ^ 
Diot 'bezitiess, however, in the common acceptliiioh t>f 4iie 
IMM^ ;' it is melancholy, it is hopelessness, it is disponlen* 
ey;«''^It-4s a^ singular recollection of afneient-dilfi^rin^attd 
iMttillatiMs. -It i3 the heart i»inkuig -of tthe ^riaooeri 49 



:?aLlt..«^ . *. 



^rttdm tke tet '6{ ckfahliig WmseU; becc^^ ~tft 
bMh\*ii.--T}ie daj ms agaih leie, abd 'fffiaii% ftat ifi^ 
host was tibt HSdy — «< ex fenib Aire liiirem/' I cbnthjittHi 
ibj jdiimey. Igave Imn soine%iBe On qmtti% him 5^11 
teaiiger, isy his M^shigs, and his "iflfiBfs, ^hii^htiiat^ 
thought it great ; atic^ ^perha|is, such ymtn Hhfeir pdveitf, 
thaft a trifle was great BalHgawIy ttiodtiiains^'te attci^ 
&fies, \^re the scene 6f rap!fteand'nmrdter>-/Ph^y *W^l*e 
Sauhted l)y a gang of rdbbers, atthe 'hdid (if 'whii* 'Ms 
dhe Rediiiond CyHanlati, celeBrated in ^iMnbiU Stbiy, 
'^ the Carttmche^ or Robin -HmA '6{ the tro^thbf 
Irdand. The 'most niarvelloiirftalfes are toldof * His ccftira^e, 
kis exjAbits, and gfenerosity; rdbhing the* rfdh only, /and 
tffa&ring his spoib wnh the poor. 

Redmond O'tialfilaft was amtog tike test of tiiikt dbniosci- 
#iis hddy of ihtn, distinguished by the tiOd 'bt Kkppkrt^ 
tfom the Irish name of their lisSf pike; a- weapon Easily 
procured by the 'toost barbarous. They roved ^atAdmt in 
6d£es^ in search of subsistence, ^without -nity 'tfeitain 
sibode, ^ d^i^tiilation, and plundering every ^districflHey 
Tisited, were dreaded and detested 'by the c6Utttiy, Th\dy 
#ere well known, during the reign of Charles the "Second, 
' under fhe name of Tories j aivd served to gfve'atiiefcnttie 
lo a body of men holding certain political opinions, "tlrfaidhi 
name th^ retain to this day. The Irish fiap^r^eiTwere 
long a subject of jK>pular terror atid wonder,' toihe English ; 
find to the idle and exaggerated tales, whieh #ere ptopagstt^d 
of them, iire to he, in a great degfee attributed; tlie 
abhorrence with which too mafny of them "stili'i^gaidH^e 
Irish. Yet many of th^se utifortunate men were ilriVen, 
by necessity, to this wretched course of fife* Th(^'<jrfHre 
robbed themselves, before they became robbers yjAiitiA^fkd 
by the miscreants of those armies, which so often ravaged 
imd desolated Irelaud, ^' they luidno altemativebttt toplundec 
and rob in their turn, or to starve^to be murderers or to 



periali: ^y asseaibledat the dead of ni^'in 9olitaiyplfte«ty 
prelected tlnMrexcursionSy rushed suddenly on thdr prey^ im^ 
ni^ed at the first appearance of o]^ositioii, nod were 9g9i^ 
readily cc^ected. — ^They. hung about the ttrmy on its 
match; every striding soldier they killed; even for ^le* 
aake of his arms or dotlnng. In themge of narticNud 
hatred, they frequently mangled bis dead body^ and iFeturcied 
on their invaders' heads, a portion- of those woes, so diead* 
fully inflicted on themselves. After walking a couple o^ 
miles from my last halting place, I was overtaken l^y the 
Derry' coach ; ther^e were only three inside passengers^ and 
I was httpfy to make the fourth^ By a whimsical ooinmdeiice 
for the north of Ireland, (where stranger^ are not nuneroiis)' 
ihey were all of di£Perent countries. One was an Englirir^ 
man, the other aSeotehmanj( and the third a Frenchn^m. 
The country we passed through, was forlorn ahd drauy ; a.*" 
bleak and dismal bog was on one side, on the other wild 
and barren mountains covered with heath, and desti* 
tute of inhabitants. — But the evening was be^tifUf 
die parting rays of the sun, played on the streams, €hat 
poured down from the craggy cliffs that hung over 
us, and the soft notes of a clarionet, on which the guard 
was playing, intermingled with the sound of the *wsri:ers, 
imd made it most delightful. Our music, however, was 
doomed to suffer a melancholy interru{>tioD. The guanj, 
having placed himself incautiously on the roof, was, by a 
sudden motion of the coach, thrown ta the ground, and 
killed on the spot. — The. body was left in a cabin near the 
place wher^ the accident happened ; nor could I On dri^ 
vingaway, restrain a sigh of c(»nmiseration for the unhappy 
miui, whose wild notes an instant before had given me such 
ple9l!ir^ and who thus ^ 

•' Did play the swan^ 
^* And dieinmctsiCi**/ 



/ 



m 






^t 



1 sWe feijdto OnlRgti about $eveti o^dodk ^•-^Thi coach 

iMofM^t a.imiiE^9 of which I ham forgot tbe sigii I mg- 

IIk iHtedtlieikJbMMonM Arm ibeetljr opposite; whidi^^Hi 

cieaiplloeMi ^lad erality, I fo«nd equal to any houses I have ^ 

ever beenki.-^The kniHovdVnaBie is Jeakiai; he is a ciiil^ 

'Ok%ing little feUow-i«-he shevredme every thing* that wa^ 
cturknii in ,ihe town and neighbourhood : and p^formed the 
part of Cioerbnl widi great iracee$s, con»dering it was his 
fljRit 4{^»eafmnor in ihat*|^raQien He assured me i was 
the ^n)y tMi^ll«F> 4^ho evei^ thought it worth his while to 
aj)c hiai a single q«»sUon about OnKtgh^ during fins yesnrs 
he had Uved iti it. The af^roach to thistowi^ is ^tty ; iris 
iskua^edon arising gro«id.^^The country lioundis b%lily eul- 
tivi^dj inteiteeet^ Wkh hedges, and tolerably Wdl pkuited. 
The chureh sptre, and a small cupola erected on iim ses- 

-sion house^ gi^ it a gay, and somewhat of theatric appear- 
amoe«--*The interior of the town, however, d^troys the 
delusion. — ^The streets are dirty, and irregular, and Aough 
thefe are some gooyi houses, they mte by no means so nu* 
melius, as thos^ of an oppodile deseription — yet I saw none 

><tf those hovels, w^ioh are d^eribed bytra^Uers, as forming 
jkhe i^ntr^ice to anlri^ country town .•«^In general t^e 
eabina wi^e tolerably ' deeent^^^Ht^hat I allude to is ^ ex- 
tamal state df the habitatioi^ of many, who no doubt be- 
longed to the better prder <rf inhabiiants ; andwfaich indi-* 
cated A^igenoe an4 indolence, mc^e than pc^^rty and 
'm»it.-^A ^mber of ikxe houses were thatdied:**- 

: being repaired at different periiads, as «iec^toity re<{uifed, 
the roofs often presented a grotesque appearance and 
were deaked in all tb« colours of th^e y^ar; — the fresh 
s^aw of autumn, on^ the part lately done, mi the ^een 
verdure*of i^prkig in the plentiful cr<^ of w^d$ wimh grew . 
<Hi the more ancient. — ^At a dbtance one might have taken 
it^for the ciiy of Babylon, with Its gardens and ^ten fields. 



me 

mk the tops oi the hous€s.***Oini^.(proii0liiiced Ckuq^ 

as^ bi^ing^softer^} is the assise towo ot the Comity. Ty 

n dignity it owes more to its central 6kuaiian». tiuta 

other advantage it possesses.-— There, is a dc^eeof i^ooiD' 

about it, which it is mcNre easy to feel than describe^.*— If 

1 was confined to a country town, I shoidd .not dbose 

Oinagh for my prison. It was foonerly the pcpp^erty of the 

O'NeUsy and takes its pame from them-^^^A leanxc^d £tyiiif* 

logjiBt tells me^ it signifies the^eld of the OwV-'*A ^MiB 

portion of their ancient castle still remains near the •town \ 

a large hird like an eagle^ c^riounly cut on sloiu^ HfM.tak^ 

down $ome years ago^ from off one of the pillars j^f the 

grand portal. — ^This eagle attracted gre^t crowds^ of visi« 

tors to the yard into which he was throwp> wd as be had 

no power to defend himself^ he was very rou^Iy handle^; 

his beak was broken^ his claws were claw^ ofl> and hii 

wings so clipped, that when I visited him, I could D#t IsU 

, whe^er he was an caglci, or an weient Irish warrior. Tbt 

Austrian eagle, has not been more roughly handled by the 

French Emperor, than this Ornish one by its curioua n- 

sitors« The only other remnant of antiquity,, is the remains 

of an old abbey, but this, like the Eagle, may be nny thhi^ 

else as well. At Qmagh, like other places, anti^puurimis ^s^ 

things invisible to common si§^t*-*It stood to reason, a.map 

said (who, oame out of\A bouse to give me its histarj) k 

, should be a fjiory, for from the shape of it, it cxmld be,no 

other building } I don't jiay it could benoother^ bMfSff' 

tainly it resembled a friory as mnch as any i>thcr buil^ii^ 

. — he>told me he recollects when part of the roof vm& oa.i^ || 

.Over the front gate^ likewise, theffe were two holes for c»inQi^ 

to guard it.'»*-It would appear, by his account^ they d^ jt 

,inost effeatually :— at the wars of Ireland^ a rcgim^t OMit 

.forward to take possession of k ; at this time the.friarahad 

all flee), and only the old porter^ an old ^oma%' and a cat 



^^&9^ned>-*As JKooh as * Aey p^cdved the soldieisS' mttat 
^oagh> the old m2m b^an a brisk fire upon &em^ the M 
Vtmian asabtin^ all the time to load the cannon :— «-what 
the employment bf the cat was, iny narrator could not 
inform me.-— Having lost many of his best men, the co* 
lonel came forward and demand^ a parley; he htggei of 
the dd man $a ■ aAlow fann to go in» attd gave his word and 
honour, h« would doliim^ no injury^ nor suffer my one to 
^Mfcrbut hteiself.—- ^Tiie eld man consented, and let hsm 
m.---The cctonel asted where all the people were, wha 
had prevented his men from entering; ^' There was no one 
here at all at all/" says the did man^ ^' but that old womai^ 
myself, and that grey cat." ** I suppose," said I, ** the grey 
cat was a wifch> and was the life and soul of the Httle gar* 
rison." "Witch, or warlock, I cannot say," said the man,^^but 
tfte story b as tkiie as you stand there, for I have heard my 
Ather tell it twenty, alid twenty-times, when I was a little 
boy." ' * T he colone]> as was natural, was struck with 
the heroism xpf this gallant Triumvirate, (I beg pardon for 
ihb bull) and assured them, that nd~ unhallowed thing 
should pollute these holy-walls.^ — He was as good as his 
word, or rather teaven took care of them. — No heretic 
ever had power to enter. The ark of holy Noah, was 
neverprofened by the tread of Protestant feet. — ^When the 
three brave ceiitinels above mentioned were refievedby the 
eourse of nature, another noless formidable one started up-«» 
a ghost in a red cloak— ^well known in Omagh to this day, 
by the name of Auld red cloak, j i. T he only place of 
worship' in Omagh is the church^^hich h pretty well atten^ 
ed. ' The presbyterians, who form die bulk of the inhabi* 
^nts, hare their meeting house a tittle way outoftown— -b(HU 
protestants and presbyterians, lam sorry to remark, are equally 
footed ia their prejudices against the Catholics, as in other 
placeis I imt^ gone tttrough— ^their refigiqn is one of hatred 
and not of love.— They seem to view the papists (as they 



tms tliiftm) uMf tk6 sdiM ey€f Aiat •onus chiible JUftBiBiy ii 



'' Who think the Dation ne>r will thpve, 
" Tili all the W- s are burnt alive." 



•t 



. A "mekiidiolf pfoof of tliis diseased slatir ^ 'pitUb 
fwfiag will 4be ibnnd in the foHatml^ iiaiMti?e.'M;^iift Jalf, 
IM8^ ilie protMant^ or cyranga parfy^ oieC m^ usm ln^mmiMt 
the battle of tlie Bojse; and, aa is eUiltomtojv wt^ra de4K 
with oiaage riUbons, and orange fiiiasy iAliofieuE^i*<hei^ 
gnsat drifa^eacTi — Kin^^ Wiliiaai^ as ia well kiOMwi #i# 
ediad the Priaceof Orat^^ b«^e he asi^efidedth^^rtasaiB 
^ Eof^nd 1 and, b; a whknsical spories of- aasodfttHiii^ 
eiange has sinae been ^ favoinrite ProteaCnM coIarar.««*i»- 
Unlttchilf, a party of vidnnteerft ftotti a ivgipent «f iii3i(% 
•tune inlotawn that day^on^ Airway to Sng^Kid* Tli^ 
w»te stfll the ludform <^ thertgkneiigty^y.had quHled, oad 
kadgmn iaeiiigsaiid ieAthers-<f>-GlisaaUaiiioet<>baeixieiitf 
aetoor ta the oraiigtiiien, andobimded on theastiiaa^ in the 
flpndstof rqoisiaigsi^madeitstillnMneodiotta. NrMriritanlBifiyi 
as tfaeydo not deiaest the Catholics^ mmw tfuna jtfie Gado* 
« tics defleat Jtham, that the militia men aHide an ost^tatioai 
display of itr They had received their boun^mon^, aai 
wUricey was plmt|ron the road* A saldter wheihas mcmf M 
^arcfaaHa tifuor^ tod can get it to piirohaae, is aeUkai 
aob^. The qrangedii3n had met ta oanun^nB^onUie « gaia4 
cwmt*'— ^^ It was a> day of fon and jattty/' It m to be 
prejiniaed^ thi^rafiora, they dnuaif aa frcidy as the soldkaa 
Whether it was the fnenapy of paity^ or ofttqiiinrj «r-a( 
both^ a quanrel'aeian ionaued i^^-fseveral sevare blo«R8 
"givan^oa each aide; but, at length, tl»<miliiiia weitt 
«if the fialdi^-^-rSlha orangem^, faawevaE, hadbet a^atiait 
iggtm ta t^!^K their tdinm^ t-^^^tbeir antaganisla MtnrBaA 
in a few im^aatSi^ adth a»nBkata tbey&d bonMred fnoi 



2* ^ 

t^ Mbdi|e|8 G^ a coxoppHf cpaitered in torn — Tbey^fili^ 
fSfowsciiattsl; on ihi^^QX^ of ouNBgeinen, and inbali^kMNM' 
that covered the street.— «Five men^ I believe, were killed^ 
imd a nmcb greater number wounded: of the men- killed 
on the spot not one was an ocangeman. — ^Tbey weiie jmesely 
sfiectalori^ a^^^^sted by euripsity^^-The i^h of a^pe90O 
p{ di^name-of ifiKvey^ waHatt^ndad wMh some e^tmQtii* 
p^ ciixsjaQis(aBces«~-{ie was eudeavo^ring to > fxtfvgui # 
i3im^Smii^.g^3mg oiit tp join th^ oifu^fcMf n 9 m tbef wett 
^ts^SgliW Ag tbe^bn9Hh<dda.iibQft sytr^;fa^ onitbe knfSc| 
liidhe 4i^ shortly aftepiwrds,<^-£y the OEertions <rf lAa 
iMfi«^te% ibis imftgEtuMte bi^wess was iat}eQ§tb|>»t!ft 
atup tp^ and tb^ volunteers lodgVMpi ui piisoBy-^-^igbl isf 
them .wejce tpied M ^ J^Hst asasaes^^ but lacqnit^^ I 
nienlipn this to die bonour of the Juiy who tiied ibeii. 
Tbfsy wei^, dQUbtkaSj alnioat all iM-eriiyteriansi; they.bad 
fhnfefore, stxos;^ pr^ndioes to stragi^ agipinst ; bnt 4ifar 
^eMe of the obligai^n of an Q«lii» w^ slaDonger ^riad 
|}^%il their batipied of Catbolies* About two miles ,fr<wi 
Pma^ is Basb> the beamfcifal demesae of .lA»d Mounl^^ 
Tfai^ boose is a mean. cottage, Imt I am told conreoient^ 
fit^.up in. the iaaide.^ The late ii(Mrd Al^ottn^ogr, was a 
Venevokmt diaracter; was fond of agricuknre- himself, 
iind encouraged it in oAers.. He ooniQianded;tbe ]>nWin 
poepment . of militia, and was hiHed at the batllerof Tj^ 
V^o^ in 179&. Lord O'NeiUe, anotbier .no];thern hos^j 
mas kiUed at AnUim a few days alterwar^is* It is-melanH 
«holy that two of the most ^ amiidble men, among tlie 
ibish peemge, shovdd have been .the victims of this 
amfortimate rebeUicm. There .vr^re many ..othars vAip 
..ponld bare been much better* qiered. The present I40r4 
48 a milHary man itkcwise;--he oommaods a legion #f 
vcdtimteefiE^- or, yeomen, and if not one of the mo^t 
;e^q)erience(V ^^ eertainly one >of the mm/sv offipers j|p 



Ms majesty's senriee. * Hi5 jadtet nni paniflioenf^.iK^ 
"loaded with gold, and ^tars, and jeweb^ if I acn tor isn& 
pedlar Report : — hiif bridk^ saddle^ aiid sad^e^oisdii 
are equally oraamented.-r^^' Smvy* said mj ixfysf^moA^ 
^ eiren Us stimip iron^ are gold/* This is abuH, lift-kis 
an ^KGttseable one ^r— it is a Ml^ but no^ f, palpoblBtaie. 
•—Iron is the substance of which stimips^ arfe genMllj 
made ;^rstimip irons^ therefore, are supped -I© 
the thing only, and not the thing find the subsitiafii^ 
fmijftd. In England a simitar mode oTt«itkl^im%*wA 
vncbminon: — delicate ladies w{|l sfay, ^^ I Imi sfa^r^ 
mornings, if I do not eat a few mputhfuis ^ Hfs i jiwfw lat 
before breakfiEust/Vr-Andlhave heard not illredwttled'peoi^ 
•ay I ^no; I never drink the eomtnpn tjort ;-rriiiy Iw il 
always warm water with a little cream hi it, and sweetiHicd 
with sugar. His lordship is not only a line officer; |ittt t 
line player likewise,— «>another Irish Rosefus^ — a new 
northern light, or dramatic luminiiry; — actstragedy, eoHkedy^ 
and &rce ; and what is a rare merit, and proves tiie iMAi ol 
genius,—- -he is eqaaSy great in them all, — farce, howe^^j 
if am told, is his own favourite ; he is fcmd off recunfag^ til itj 
and something of it is to be seen even iii his tnlgedy.— He 
has erected a neat little theatre in his demesne ;-r-sent 'for 
ft scene painter to London, to paint go^s and' gtsddesses, 
heftthen temples, and Chinese pagodas, green fielda, mid 
fat cowsjj with other scenic decorations. A summer or 
two tiigpy he brought down a sKbalof actors and actresses 
from Dublin ; quartered them on his tenants, and liuftted 
them through his grounds^ like travelling gypsies ; and 
opened hb theatre, ha^'ing previously i«f^u^ cards of 
invitation, to all the neighbouring gentry. It Is needless 
to say he was loudly applauded, particularly by the la£es : 
»— when a man has the good fortune to be n&t^ yc«ing| 
handsonie^ and though last, 'not least^ a lord^ Aey mus^ be 



4flurd4ieHried ladte»«iadbed, who would* not b^ ddighted 

.with Us peiformftMC. He had something too, to please 
jA palates ;^-tragedy is imdancholy worlc, and his. lordship 
did not wish to send hit hearers weeping to their beds, 
«-^4iRid9r souls might cry at the playt but every body 
brightened up at th^ n^ften^piece, — There was always an 
fnneUent supper, and wiiie for t^^ aiudience,-*-The 
fntlemaa with one^ aco^d pronounced him. a spirited, 
4Rid tlM»4adies a most ravishing perfoicmer. He is, I l^n, 
a .gQod*hiioiouiied, ^nd amiable man 5 not a.philos^er, 

jfp^apaf but that is not wonderful. Lords seldou]^ are 
philosophers, and tP do our government justice, they seldoih 
mdce {diilosophers hyrd^. I ^ned with the people of th^ 
iiin»**I found them pleasant and agireeable, Wh«n we 

. ^viere at table the waiter ca^ in, and asked for pap^, pen, 
and iiik*— *This. is completdy a Scotch mode of ei^resnion, 
—in the san;e^ manner they say.here, butter and bread, or 
fl^ese and bread, instead of bread , and butt^,*-*>b]ipead 
and cheese. Onie of the; young men played on the fi4f}le|r 
«-aiot so well as Mr. Ware, .perhaps, hut well enough for 
Omaght — Among qther tune;s,, he .played thp. .JB[ighfond 
Laddie: — a Scotch officer in. the next tooqi heard.it, he 
cam^in M;;here.we were sitting, apologized for the. intrusion^ 
and begged leeve to fal^.sL tiinahter with us* — "Myfcerl 
wanned to that tune whefiever a heard it, foir yet man ken, 
I was bixme near Jnverary, and. am, a highland laddie 
myself."— He was al)outiifty yean^ «f ag^, and upwards <rf 
six-feet high* If he was a highland laddie, I winder what 
highhmd men and women ar^ /.^, Qax^ ye play, the waging 
of the JimW said he, to the, ^miisicinn ?''---" No 5'' the 
other answered. "EhT mo9, that's, a. pity|-.-ii8i ji deevil 
^f a guid tune, — I could listei;! a whole night to it: it 
puts me so muckle. in mipd of ql. lang^sjine, — Ii,er^.Sandy, 

^ Sandy, (starting up and calling to hi$ servant) devil tak 




the cUi^ )kc% seer io be got wbdi M* y^kabsAH-^J^mii 
Sudy, whistle that gentleman the upwWwg .isf tlmfcaM,. 
miy 4ie be can catch it with his fiiddie«"«*^TIie senaM; wfa#-i 
seemed to have mete ismm ^mhi his msttr, fell awhwan^. 
and did not imniediateiy begin**^-^^ Wbf ditiwi yi^hQgWi- 
ye mule ye/' said Ae other ; ^ yeiKrouU h^ been «hiatl8is<: 
it by the cor, gin' I had na asked forit«'-— ^Ti9 boy Aaiifiytr 
hianaetf in a military attitude^ like Trftn reading- tiie ^seti^ 
miam, zhd began whistling the waahing tf the fimb «0>¥Qeai 
feroualy, that I walked offasprecijAtately as IdiottldbilYe'Ano 
ilremarpairof bag-pipesv The morals of fheBcottii haiie bm«^ 
jtfstly and highly itpphniddd.^— Their niBiintfn woqM not 
be thonght so ISsvonrably of, if' they wei^ to'be *|hKl{g6d bf 
^bitie of the Sooteb odicers who tome to tMs coMiWry.** l%t 
Tay-f$ide fencSfles were %uarten§d h«re sdme y^lM 1^. A 
gtmlemtm ^id, jocnUrit, to oneof tbelieu«ensn4s ; << Whir 
Ad you Ao eaptain b^re yo« turned soMter ?^ << fh troth 
liien poor tsnodgh/* said the dther, << if the troth w«^ to M 
ttuM i"^yjkSm was a tttiior^ i^diwd atito hit o HdHl, abli 
so I wrought sometimes oh the Hboard^ and scHhetimes at the 
lak.'^ I Was soctti kndwti ^o l>e a- doctor, and as soon grit- a 
^tietlt.t.-»Tnrt*H}hg dottors are greatty prtxcd in Ireland, 
b^eans^ Aney hit a kind ^f 6od*send, and ntyet \ik^ fl?es.<^— 
tt would be -very ohreasOnable if they did, for the pf^ents 
ne¥er tsffcfe theirprcscriptJonfe :-r-ttiy present one was a fiir* 
trier, who lived about a mile out pf town; — The yot^ng 
ihah Who phiftA f^ fidffle, walked iOohg witfi me. I w^^ 
ih^Wn infso thfc room Where the slcfc man lay.— It wtis a very 
sultry eveninj^, he ky dnSter a treble load of blankels,' and 
kn immense fire biaied on the hearth.--^! mdVed fo' ^e 
Wiiidow^ to try to o^tt it, but it was nailed down. ItMf 
Ikrniers ^thiiik (hey have air enough in the open fields, aiM 
sddotii adlirft it ititb'thdr ilptirtments ;— ^they WotaS ihlH(^ 



Qfam i^ibhiriilils it imi^ sometUHes Ms it in.-^PaiiJ^ when 
laiee breken^ w^ addom fueaAed^ wad even a jiole m ih'e 
xotiif is seliiDiB k8Slitfi8f»aii«d»-^I felt the naaa's pube and 
toriOMl ff^ hts tahgue-^-lie Was iH a h%h fever — his ^tiiadoa 
wtottld hgre ^med^Hae degree of it t&ttv&ty buoiati betii^* 
t deslwd the girid w% '^ -she'is called) p take off some of 
the bkiitr£fts.-*-->^< I diirs na, Sunr/'ishe said, ^^ he i^ in agreM 
H&et, nnd WdHldtafc fci^ dettb tittmld.'*--^^^ My good wYNman/ - 
I Bi^, *^ if lie tttkeis Us depidi (which is ii|>t unlitely) it 
*lir<Aa% )ie fMn cdld I asaore yoii--*why do y&a keep su(^ a 
£ve im tiiift #ai«A evening ?^* '^ in tioth, Surr^aad I will}ust 
teH^e*: he has a graie weight about has hert, and the 
ni^b^OrS advised nmtp put it on, and now and tlten, to giet 
Um a weedriq) ctf Whiskey, just toirtrUceit out*' — '^ Ai>dthft 
aofy l^fd |]ii'hditil9^ CDviis in o -evenings/' said the saek mai^ 
^<40 aiik "how laio^ atid cafai^k a hit*--oneiQOsthaves<Hhething 
«>iiiak^ (bl^m c€iatf<»rtabley«« know/' ^' I know,'- saidi, << if I was 
}n a fencer, I tii^oiild tbi^k tsf my^lf , and not of Ihose wfao^ Iroiii 
}dte ei^fkfsity, caihe in tn Tisit me ; »id'#he mn the risk €f 
t^iAg an infoetions diacAse^ and ^iropagatk^ it through tha 
eoiilltty.— -Doyou wish I should order you any ffiedieinc^j *' ^*1 
atlina say I tto^ Suit; not that I would host ony sliv on youi( 
}Udgment»but I am in the handaof Pion^moe^and he is tlm 
best Docidr c«»*-be knows what is guid for m% better than I 
do vtff sislff and gin it be laefi^ ot death, I submit myself t^ 
his wlU." ^^ i^ovidetide allows second misans to be made usa 
fef/' I said I ** as he gives eomto at^kfj famger> and wat^r 
to quench thirst, so he gives asiedioine to eare disease. YoU 
had bettei^let medrder s(imething.''-^4cantm>:Siirr,I cannat; 
dinmi bo an^ry with me, but it would be tempting Proviir 
deuce. Ai&iction does ij^ rise ftsem the dust^ nor sorrow 
t^om the ground*^*-. Whom the iruinl ioveth. he chastened ; he 



234 

gfres and he inka away ; be makes side and bemakes well ; 
jUessedlbr ever be his holy nanae«^ '^ Tdl me, then/' I said, 
(I assure you I am not angry) ^< why were you saansdoustosee 
me. I am no magician ; you doq't . soppoee I wofk miniGJes 
••—I can't cure you by a look." " Na, na, na^ Surr, I know yc 
eanna ; but I just wished ye to spend your <^nioQ oa me« 
I have a son, abrajaddie, just out of his time, who woite at 
the carpenter trade, in Armagh — ^gin I thought I would dee, 
1 would send for him togive him my blessings and a wee hit 
e( advice ; youdi is never the worse of it, and I would wish 
kirn to see, wfcat he man one day come to binuftL «But gin 
I amto live,! would nacboose to tak him so jkM^.ofif his wqdu^' 
«' My good friend," I said, I admire your l<»rtii|ide^ and 
itedgnation, though I cannot uay I think much of jcw w- 
dom — twill tell you hcmestly, therefor^ my opinion: if 
you do not resolve to thnnv off a poclion ofthc^ idotbs^ to 
extioguish' that fire, to quit cracking with your m^binm, afid 
taking their prescriplions;. the sooner you send for your son 
the better ; and as he is a carpenter, he may bring a coffin 
with'him/*——'— I believe I have said in a former part <^thia 
work, that the belief of piedestinatioa is a comfoftaUe doe*- 
trine for the soldier, I am sure it is not so feur the Dpc^ior^- 
how many sle^k beads would, be roiugb ; bow maqy who jmiw 
roll in chariots, would mend sbo^, for want ot genius & 
make them, if the fine ladies and gentlemen of I^rnidon 
were to beocmie Calvini^s. ^^ Gin I was to do the .ono 
half of what ye taald me, and my husband to dif^'' said 
tlie womam, as she followed me to thodoor, ^' I cfMSld fieeoer 
lift up my heed again ^-^-r the ni'bom-s would say I murdered 
him." ^' At sdl events," I said,^^ you can put a clean sburt:9Q 
htm ; the one he has on is soand^doualy dif ty." ^^Its nadifty, 
Surf) I assure ye, I put k on him the day be was tak^a iUj that 
wtunabe a week till toHauinrow.''-^Thi& good woman's idea 
of clean linen, reminds me .of the following instance given 
by Doctor G -^ in his lectures, of what he jocularly 



^5 

tnrms Scoteb cleatilinMs. — Kt was attending a young la^ 

tn^a fever — ^be > tei^ral times desired the mother to change 

her linen 5 the repeatedlf i^id she would^ and at len^^th^ 

though rehtctantiy, oonpUed.-— ^^Dootor/ - said she to him one 

morning, ^^ I have done as you directed me ; I have put a 

clean shift on Maria, and she finds it very refreshing/'-^ 

f' I hope/' ansuwed be, ^^ you took care to have it well aired*'* 

. '* Oh! don't be uadar any unea^ipe«s about that/' rejdiedthe 

careful pai«nt,««^^^ before I put it .on her, 1 wore it two days 

inyself.*''*-! e«iaot forbear raentioninganother inst«»oe Ihav^ 

heardof jSeatch olefMiHness } though poss^ly it is a falmcated, 

rather than a real story. An JplngUsb gentleman traveled 

(nice in Scotland, who was very fas^dious — ^he disliked the 

ooohery, and w^s disgusted with the dirty manner in which 

every thing was served up to bimf He tried several bins, 

but found them all alike— tbey^ could give him nothing tliat 

was clean, or nothing that he could be brpught to dunk was 

#o.--^He stopt once at^ little public house^-*he asked what 

4ie eouU have &ir dinner/; the woman said she had a niee 

.goose ^g, which could be dressed in an instant. ^Tfae poor 

- traTcUer thought/ at length, he had a fair chance of somethiug 

cleanly ; he ordered her 40 put it down in the ashes to roast, 

imd sat dewnby the fire side to wateh it~*^^ I think,"saidhe, 

'^< I have gf length got a dish the devil himself can't spml in the 

*cookeiy.-r-n^^ I foney it must be done now, " said he, to the 

lfmdlady,whowassittingbeside him. ^TU soon tell you that,'* 

|said she, pulHng a large pin out of her niQUth, with whtch 

«he bad been pieking her teeth, and thrusting it into the side 

of the egg:-^**^^ ah weel<*a<^wot, Surr, its as weel done au egg as 

ony in Christendom/* A few yearS;.ago, the Presbyterians 

' Jn^he couutry parts of this kingdom^ were not much clean** 

tier than their l^eetrish ancestors. The inside of a yessd was 

seldom washed, and the outside hardly ever**-*^-! h^ve heard 

fi wortfiy msui who lived v^ry much among then^ (when in 



n 



296 



early life he tiwreUedcsa pedfcr,) aty^ ibaSt iix tmi 

and butter^ handed about at tea^ was ffcixaraihf spttaA 

'^ widb the thimib and fliers of the good wMaa of the houBe. 
— ^The man whcyi^uld have refused to^aC it on tfaaftocooviil^ 
would have been tfumght aGO(iceitedcoxooBib>oi'iiithae{^i«Be 
of the country, more niee 4han wbe«r-»«A smafi distanee 
fcom the house wheve I had been visiting, is DnxBiraBiid^ 
an edifice of great antiquity; built over« beanttful wiad-^ 
ing river, called the Cammon (which is the Irisrht^^drd'Esr 
<»ooked)-«-»at the far side of the bridge, aretbe i«maii» of 
Drumra old church, founded by no less ap^aoiH^ thao St. 
Patrick himself.^-St* Patrick was a grdat henefhcfeor ef 
Irisbinen— he not only made them christians; and cbsosd 
alt Tenoinoiis creatures from their Isle^d, but he ievdied 
mountains, oTcrthrew roeha, and bidlt churche9«*^Vhifstil 
least is ^he Catholic account oi him. — The PrdtMlBnts^ it 
must be confessed, hold Inm,, and the wh^eof his frttteraky^ 
in contempt, swearing they w^ere more sinners than Btixtm^*^ 
a kirkd of spirituid jugglers, who threw AM intb peoplja'i 
eyes, and cheated theni with tricks of legerd^moBi^ 
and slight of hiind.-'-'Ilua has been fat- i^s .a very 
gentle 'phce,---! was at a Joss to understand: Ae 
ineatiing of gentle, thus applied, and sfiked mi msf 
plaiiation; — This was eaafly given; it has long been a 
fi^TQurite haunt of the ' Mries.-- ^"^fi music is freqiue^gp 
heard ;liere in summer evenings, and at im&iight/Aefy 
generally begin thehr dancings Near tlte church lAttie ian 
^mallcahifi/'the owner of which took it into his bniidfn. 
few months since, to cut down some old hawthorn trees, 

* .which grew in a field behind his houae. Theybhftd -not 
heen ctit dc^n many nights, when his house beeame 
4ifsturbed whh uncommon noisvs, andt«ic% clay, a&disaad 
were dfirown «bout in an estraordinary macm^: onenaf his 
sneighbodr^ (our in fo r ma n i ) can ^fely s wdar, ;he. sa# n -sod 



looseimi^ itself, rkicg grad wlljr fmii Hie lower part of tfie 
.^ly beUniLliie Wd, ^lul tlieii iwrt t^ if it iMid bem bbum 
ftRom die mouili of a ba^ stmck bim phimp oq the hi'eeM^ 
,ovcir fl€ieeml pock's .JwftsEt. It iHd net do bim the least 
injury 5— -^had any thing humau tkraam fe, it certainly 
would have knocked him down. — He had scarcely time to 
iUss himself, before his wife was struck on the side of her 
head with a lump of clay ; and though her cap was as white 
as snow, {being not mor^ than thr^e or four <kys washed) it 
was notifl the least soiled. She blessed herself and ran home 
as quick as p<)«sibl%-and the good man, from his care of 
her (for he was'nt in the least qfbard) followed her imme^- 
ately. The next momkig they sent for^e man to whdm 
'^ hcfvm belonged, advised with him, and raiswied with him 

• to tai back the hawthorn ^ees to the place he had biouglit 
. them fir^aa, but all to ®o puipose* — He said, that now the 
' 4eed was doae, there would be no use in taking them back) 

*-4»e^jides, that he had always said, that the gentry w«-e 
i gude- folky and be «ever intended to harm riiem by taking 
away Ae* trees ; but all his good speeches beUnd their^back, 
hfid «o efect on the geatry, as the throwing about turf, 
elay, &?* had still continued. They at last sent for the priest 
who lead prayers in the house. The gentry had so joiuch 
. re^ct for his holy function, as to keep tolerably qiiiet 

• while he was present, but the moment his back was turned, 
. foeeasne ifi<^e noisy and obstreperous than ever. The man 

ij4io gave us aH this information was detrently enough 

-'dressed:—- he said, " That gin he was to die the nt^xt 

morning, he would tak it to death with him that every-word 

• h^ spq|ie was as true as the bible/* Whether he was- 
deoMviog'Qar deceived, I will not take on me to^ deteivtnine, 

^ perhaps hcwa#'^fioth:-*-aparthe thowght true^ and endea- 
- ^bared to strengthen it, by feigning -the xemaindefr. We 
>«re>ioo fond of drnplifyinij^ in j«*gmg the a'ction^ 6t m<?n. 



2S» 

We Urnk of oiie ctose only^ when there «e timtyf. Tfcc! 
mtacfiire of simplicity and cunning, felly and knavery, it 
more fitequent tban people ate aware of. Ho# ^i 
should we have so many miracles, saints, quack-doctors, 
and metbpdist^pnacfaersA 



CHAP. XX. 

Newtown Stewart. 

1 CAME here in the coach last night. I travel by easy 
ttages--^-Newtown Stewart is only ei^t mtlec from Omaghl 
It was dark when I tocJc my seat. I could not see my 
fellow travellers, but I heard them. Young ladies^ we ar$ 
.told, should be seen before they are heard. In Ireland 
both young ladies, and old gentlemai, are generally heard 
before they are seen. They weare talking of the Jews. A 
DMNH in a corner $aid, it was an observation made by Grotius, 
that the Jews weare probably scattered over the eardi^ by a 
wise dispensation of providence, to make Aem the mettis 
of prqpagating the gospel, to the remotest p^rts of the 
universe. — He quoted two lines of Homer, I suppose, in 
ittustration of this :-<*-how he came to procure Us authority 
for the conversion of the Jews first, and then the Pagans^ 
I am at a loss to conjecture; — perhaps it would pu2ale 
Grotius himself, if ,he was alive, to explain it. I said| I 
had BO doubt they wduld be successful missionaries, — if' 
they circulate<} the gospel as extensively as thej now do 
£o|^b guineas, christians would be as pleftty on the 
earthy as gold is now scarce in England. A youc^ man 
told us of a great affront put <m him ia London^ scBit 
wedui l^foi^. Hf weiit (froxi^ curiosity) to the Jeffffk 



Synagogue* A person asked hka some ^uesticiis about tfaij^ 
(lature of the worship,— -^^ D— a ye," I said, ** do jou 
take me for a Jew ?" .^^ If he had looked in your &ec^'' said 
a female, I am sure.he never could hav/e made that mistake*" 
'^ Oh, mam, much obliged to you,-^Hiamned bog of an 
Euglishmaa; if it had not been in a place of worship, I 
would have beat his snub nose as flat as a pancake. A few 
days after>^^ards (he proceeded) he was invited to a Jewisb 
wedding. There were a great number of fine girls, aud the 
bride could not Ibten to the Rabbi for looking at him*" 
" You would have had no objection," said I, ^^I suppose, to 
have taken the form of tlie humblest of the tribe oCIssachar 
if it had been a more effectual means of * recommending 
yoii to th^se black, but cbihely daughters of Jerusalem?" 
*^ A gentleman of his appearance (the modest dame again 
observed,) <^ required no other shape than his own, to 
please either Jew or Christian." I record this silly chit- 
chat, merely to diew how cautious a traveller should be in 
forming his opinion of a country, from loose observation, idr 
casual conversation. Not one of these three persons was a 
native of the north of Ireland^ He who quoted Greek was 
a priest, and educated at the university of Salamanca. 
The young man was a citizen of New York, and the lady 
was a strolling player, and an English womain. A little 
distance from Newtown Stewart, a bag of dollars, 
that was loosely fastened on the top, fell off, and 
poured a portion of its precious contents on the ground. We 
got out to assist the guard in picking them up. It was \^h 
0wn fault that he had not more numerous helpers. The 
country people came flocking, to see what was the matter ; 
and when they found a harvest of dollars was to be gather* 
ed, they were all willing to become lalxmrers ; what was so 
kindly oflered, however, wa3 most ungraciously rejected. 
Thf^gui»rd )ev^,lledhia, musket, and..4esired them to kciep 



U6 

M A distail<5ew It was lus mtijestfs Hlcer^' he saUy ^t^md U. 
oo^ of theiii iased to. touch e copper of it, he would bknr 
his bc^s out»''->*^The poor people retired as expeditiously 
as they oane : witatevcr relish, they might faaye for silver, 
.^ey 4id not seem to H^^e any tor lead. — We ooatiuued 
:oi|r search to long for his majesty's stray sHoCTf tfiat I do 
Aiit beliere we left « single copper for any persoa who cane 
afiber us.-***-! supped most deliciously qn bsicon and ^ggs* I 
would recommend this dish to any of my readers who may 
tiavd inlreland, for two reasons :*^in the first plaee, he 
will generally (ind it excellent $ and in the next, it Is the 
best relish for Whiskey punch I am acquainted with. I 
quaffed the latter off infiill streams, as clear ^ if diey had 
issued from Mount Helicon. They did not give insphratio^, 
perhaps, but they did happiness, which is to the full as 
good a travelling companion, i don't know that I ever 
saw a more beautiiiil village than Newibwn Stewart; 
utuated on the declivity, and nearly at die bottom of a 
lofty hill, the eye ranges with delight over t|ie feiry man* 
sions, extended in gay theatric pride before it. A pretty 
little spire has been lately erected on the church, which is 
at the head of the town, and forms a conspicuous ornamient, 
as it elevates its glittering head nmong the green bi^nohe^ 
xif the surrounding trees. A poet would here delight to 
'place his imaginary Arcadia; — surrounded by lofty hills, 
far removed from the busy haunts of folly and vice, sheltered 
from the stormy blast of life. — 

■ 

*' Hererejgns content 
'' And nature*s c^ild simplicity, long siuce 
•' Exiled from pdlished realms.'* 

IBvLt the region of ^ poet is proverbially ficticm, a^d New^ 
town Stewart will affdrd no objection to the justice pf the 
dbsenration. — I believe, as in most country towns^ mose 



241 

6tttiimng and trick, more envy and jealousy, Wore teatt* 
burnings and dissensions, more hatred and malice, more 
mean, pitiful, and paltry contentions, will be found here, 
than in ten times its size in the largest town in Christendom^ 
—The man who wishes for pastoral innocence^ and 
simplicity of manners, must seek them in the coun- 
try, not in a country town. There are several old 
castles on the adjacent hills, but' in general they appear to 
have never been of much consequence, or of any consi- 
derable strength } many of them, however, are partly com- 
posed of a very strong cement, and almost impossible to 
reduce, even with gun-powder. — One near the town, cir- 
cularly bijilt, is said to be of great antiquity ; it is called 
Harry Avery's castle, and I am informed was formerly the 
residence of the Kings of Ulster. — Part of this old castle 
projects eight feet beyond its base, and has the appearance 
of being suspended in the air, so great is the strength of ^ 

the cement, which keeps the stones together. Some 

time since, there was a review of volunteers at Newtown 
Stewart---as the greater number of them were oraugemen, 
they attended in the colours of thefr order. — This was 
One of their grand gala days, and th^y came ornamented in 
their very best manner, as they meant, after the review was 
over, to treat themselves with a wall^ to Strabane, a town 
about eight miles off: — Strabane was very obnoxious 
to them — orangeism had made little progress there — 
the inhabitants had good sense, and, what is fully as 
rare, — the magistrates had good sense likewise. They 
wished to discountenance, or at least to prevent the public 
display of those odious distinctioriS, which separate thrf 
people of Ireland so fatally from one another : — Beyond all 
other things, orange processions are offensive to the Cathc^ 
lies ; they remind them forcibly of their ancient misfor* 
tunes, and what they think their present degradation. They 



542 

regard them not only as injuries but insults^ and writhe at 
the sight of them, with such agony as a wretch might be 
supposed to do, at the sight of the rack on wliieh he was 
to be extended. — ^The magistrates, fherefore, would allow no 
orange procession to march through the town, and when 
some individuals attempted it, they threatened to read the 
riot act, if they did not immediately disperse.— The 
Orangemen were now assembled in such numbers, as to be 
indifferent about opposition, and bid defiance both to 
magistrates and riot-acts. — They could at once display their 
strength, gratify their revenge, and enjoy their triumph. 
ITie people of Strabane were worse than Caitholics.— They 
had protestant faces, (in this country a man's religion is seen 
in his face as well as in his actions) but they were mere 
renegadoes, who, had deserted the good old cause, and cared 
no more about King William^ than King Priam — poor 
grovelling souls, who remained at home all day, stuck fast 
to their counters, like bad shillings, instead of stalking 
about, like may-poles dizened with flowers, for the good of 
their country — a solemn procession might reclaim, them 
from the evil of their ways, and teach them a more exalted 
manner of thinking — When the review was finished, the 
general addressed the volunteers with compliments on their 
appearance, and day's performance — he hoped, he said, that 
such of tixe gentlemen as were orangemen, would return 
quietly home^ and give up the idea of marching to Strabane. 
They took his praise as their due, but rejected his advice 
yyiih as much contempt as if it had been a doctor's : — he 
spoke to them more peremptorily; he reminded them that 
pbedience was the great duty of a soldier. — It was a du^ 
they had never much thought of, or if they liad, they chose 
to forget it on this occasion — After consulting a few mo- 
nutes together, tliey laid down their arms, and one of them 
thus spoke in the name of the rest — ^* There are our guns, 
<5eneral,'* said he, *^ and here we are oursek, and deel tak our 



24S 

s9iuUf gin we ima allowed to march to Strabane, if w^ 
will ever tak them up again." — The'general knew what kind 
of people he had to deal with — They might not be men of 
obedience, but they were of truth : — They had protested 
too much, but he knew — they would keep their word.' 
He prudently rode off, therefore, to avoid witnessing a breach 
of discipline, he 'woi'J not encourage, and could not* 
prevent. The troops being now their own masters, resumed 
their arms, and began their march:— Consternation and 
dismay preceded* them ; and when they arrived on the 
little hill that oveilooks Strabane, the inhabitants thought 
they were to be overun by a worse plague than any that 
befel Egypt.— -They did tfiese poor orange missionaries 
injustice, however:-— they came to reclaim, not to punish 
sinners. — They passed through town as harmless, though 
not so silent, as mourners at a funeral —Except annoying 
a few people who had delicate ears, by their hideous yelling,- 
opposite the door of the most obnoxious magistrate, it does 
not appear they dfd any other mischief — It can hardly be 
called such, their getting drunk and robbing a few orchards 
on their return homewards. — They had marched and huz- 
zaed themselves into a fever, for the good of their country 7 

they surely had a right to pluck a few apples to cool it. 

' Standing at the Inn door this morning, I counted no less^ 
than twenty wheel cars, laden with goods, going downwards 
from Dublin — These paltry wheel-barrows (as some Eng- 
lishmen who visited this country have termed them) have 
been a never-failing subject of merriment and ridicule^ — 
yet they are admirably^ adapted to the local liituatioh of 
Ireland. — An Englishman might as well despise Irishmen! 
for having bogs, and rocks, and mountains, while he has- 
dead flats, and unvaried plains^ as laugh at them for their' 
small horses, and humble wheel-cars, white he has teams 
of elephants and gigantic waggons.— In every country, what 

e2 



244 

is uuiversally practised must have some foundation in nature 
and reason. — But pride will not be instructed, and in- 
dolence will not enquire. — Flippancy gives itself the airs of 
wisdom, and to prove it, finds foult with everything itsees« 
Men listen with complacency to the tale of others disadvan- 
tages, and rejoice in the advantages they themselves possess. 
Censure, therefore, will always find more readers than pane- 
gyric, and a sneer will be more relished than an argument. 
An Englishman is too qbstinately attached to his own habits 
to make sufficient allowance for the habits of others ; or 
even to be a competent judge of them — ^he forms his ideas 
from the standard of London, and whatever is difierent Is 
wrong ; he feels no comforts in other countries, and carica- 
tures, and exaggerates, all their defects : — whatever is not 
abundance is want — whatever is not perfect cleanliness is 
the extreme of filthiness— whatever is not costliness is rags :— - 
haricot of mutton, is not roast beef — Italian macaroni, is not 
Cheshire cheese — and French claret, is not London Porter. 
-—I dined about two years ago in a French cofiee-house, in 
Nassau-street, in company with a friend frcMB Shropshire.-— ^ 
There was a bill of fare before us as long as. my arm— the 
only thing my companion would eat, however, was not iu 
it : — He kept raging and bellowing for beef-steak andoyster- 
sauce^ to the great amusement of a number of foreigners who 
were in the room.— I hung down my head in confusion — It 
struck me as a brutal thing in him, to be so desirous of 
cow's meat ; for Fm sure at that instant I thought him a 
great calf. This unfortunate arrogance in the English cha- 
racter has been productive of many ill consequences.— It 
has given foreigners an erroneous idea of it — like the sun 
seen through a mist, its rajs were dusky ^s the veil thrown 
over it. It is neither loved, nor esteemed, nor valued — It 
is not amiable, and therefore, it is thought not estimable.— 
*^ I have now seenand mixed much with the world| (said pnc^ 



J 



245 

nn enlightened Italian to me) — I owe many obligations to 
Englishmen, and surely my prejudices, if they are not for, 
are not against them — yet, God so help me, as I declare my 
firm opinion, they are beyond all other men the most disa- 
greeable — the most unaccommodating — the most arrogant— 
the most supercilious— «-the most selfish, and the most una- 
miable; — I do not say that I have ndt met with many excep- 
tions — and when I did meet with them, they* were of the 
noblest kind : but the bulk of the nation are as I have de- 
scribed them/' — A Scotch officer lodged some years ago, at 
the house of a good-humoured Dutch woman, at the Cape of 
<}ood Hope,-T-" I no like the English officers, (said she to 
him,) half so well as the French — Frenchman lodge in my 
house — ^he be very civil, he talk to me, he say how do do 
Madam — how is Monsieur votre Mari — how is [Mademoi- 
selle, votre Charmante Fille? — But Englishman come in the 
morning — stalk, stalk'; he no speak to me, he no speak to my 
daughter — he drinks off two great cups of tea^ and then 
says, * me was d d drunk last night/ " T here is 

hardly a nation in Europe which has not taken English 
money, for which they have given nothing in return, not 
even their affection or esteem — Even those who were the 
longest defended by it, would, I fear, exult in our mortifica- 
tions, rejoice in our distresses, and triumph in our over- 
throw, .This may be great ingratitude in them; but is it 
not a two-edged sword, which wounds either side? — does it 
not likewise prove great mismanagement in us ? 



CHAP. XXI. 



jSrJElABANB. 

J DID not leave Newtown Stewart till the day was pretty far 
advanced,— It was Sunday. The people were ^ing to 
meeting and churchy as I was turning my hack on them— - 
the day was heautiful— the earth was clad in the garmeqt 
of summer — the heavens were without a cloud : — I was in 
the great tpmple of nature^ and worshipped the heing 
>vhpse bounty gave it birth — I had but a few miles 
to go; I sauntered, therefore, rather thfin walked. — I 
was overtaken by a boy driving a^car^^ with a chest. and some 
furniture on it. — It was followed by a gopd-lookipg young 
man and woman — their eyes were red, and their faces in- 
flamed— I thought they had been drinking, at quarrel- 
ling — they were crying— the man turned his head rounds 
as if ashamed of his grief—the girl did not turn her's, she 
seemed even to invite my glance. — In a woman's tears there 
is a softness that seeks sympathy — in a man's there is a stern- 
nessthat rejects it.— I asked her if they travelled far: — "Idp 
not/' she said, " he does." — " Do, Peggy darling, do, turn 
now (said the man,) ye ha gone far enough — we man part, 
andis*nt it best to have it oiir ?*' — " I'll just gang the length 
of that auld tree, on the tap of the hill — many a sorrowful 
parting has been at it, and we'el put ours to the number.'* 
— ■" The best friends must sometimes part," I said, ^^ you will 
^oon, I trust, have a happy meeting/' — ^f Never, never. Sun, 



247 

in this kefe" said the girl, ^^ when we pert now, my Iiert 
tells me it is for ever — ah! man, man, gin j/e had na 
been prudey gin ye had trusted to providence, and staid at 
bame — what though we could na get the ferm — what 
though we could na live in a stane house — they could na 
keep us out of a scr<mv one™ I would have wrought for ye, 
and slaved late and early — andgm we could na ha got bread 
— ^we could have died together/' — " Dirma Peggy," said 
the man, " dhma break my W*, it has»ienoughto bear already 5 
dima make me shame myself, (again turning his head to 
conceal his/ tears ;) it is a braave -country I'm ganging to, 
wo^ian," resumed be — ^^ there's nae hard landlords nor 
pmde vicars there to tak the poor man's mite — I war'ni 
ye, I wimia be slothful, and whene'er learn the price of your 
passage, ril send ito«r,and then whawiW pert us?" — *^You 
are gmngto America, I presume,"saidl.— "Yes, &11T, please 
God— 'this is no country for a poor man to leeve in. — I 
thought for a w(^ bit land — but its nae matter — God for- 
give them that wronged me, is the worst that I wish them." 
——You have been wronged then, I said." — A, Stirr, its nae 
to seek that I could say—bui we tvihna talk o' that now, 
for I wish to gang in peace with all men.— -I would na hae 
cared for myself — a know that man is born to trouble, as 
the sparks fly upwards ; ond'wee God's help, I dinna fear 
either hertihip or difficulty— but that poor lassie — she was 
aa to me in the world—and to pert with her is a sore tug 
— ^I man own it— *but it was my fate, and I could na get 
our it;" beginning to whistle, for fear he should cry. — The 
poor lassie walked by his side, appiarently unconscious of 
what he was saying.— she moved mechanically forward^ 
for the large drops that eveiy instant gathered in her eyes,' 
and fell on the ground as she walked, must have prevented 
her from seeing.-—" Now, Peggy, honey," said he, ** we 
ajre at the tap o' the bill?r^tbe road is rugged, ye hae a lang 



d4» 

way home, and ythctena. me too/' — Here die tears that 
were dropping fast^ prevented his proceeding*-- ^^ I 
will never, never, leave ye/' said she, starting frooi her 
reverie, and clasping him in hjsr arms ; ^' I will never 
leave ye— 1 will go barefooted our the world«-— 1 will b^ 
with ye, sterve with ye, dee with ye— one ship will carry 
us, one grave will houlde us ^—nothing but death now shaU 
pert \xs'\ — Is it that passion is uniform, and makes use of 
ffimilar modes of e^piession, in every age and clime ; or 
thattlie foundation of this thought, was laid in ideas that 
were not original, but acquired,*-*This woman was a pies-r 
byterian, and of course had read the soriptureso'— its expres-* 
^ions probably floated in her memcny, and she used them 
without being conscious of it.^— It is impossible not to be 
struck with the resemblanoe her speech bears to the bem* 
tiful ai(id pathetic address of Ruth to her modier in-law ; 
- — *^ Intreftt me not to leave thee, or to return firom 
following after thee: for whither thoa goest, I will go; 
and where thou lodgest, I will lodge : thy pepple shall be 
my people, and thy god my god : where thou diest, will I 
die, and there will I be buried : the Lord do so to me, 
and more also, if ought but death part thee and me/'— 
Her grief was too highly wrought to admit of reasoning, 
nd both she and her companion seemed exhausted by 
wapt of nourishment, as well as pfflicti<m.— i-I therefore 
took them into a little public house, on the road side, add 
got them some oat-bread and butter, and whiskey and 
water— I easily convinced her, how absurd it would be to 
think of going, in that unprepared condition, to Amerioi} 
I remarked to her that her lover was an active young man, 
wpuld have a few pounds in his pocket when he landed, 
and probably would soon earn enough to take her over 
decently.— •pThey grew mcnre eomposed, and parted, though 
vn&i deepi yet with less filWttc sorrow,*-*! wdked a few 



249^ 

paces on, the young ipan soon overtook me : — "See wliat a 
beautifdi day this is>" I said-—" the sun shines on your setting 
off."*—** Let him shine on her I left behind,*' said h , ** and 
he oEiay spare hi$ beems to me — numy and mmy a time we 
ha seen him set, from the hawthorn bush, in my father's 
garden 5 but that's over now, as well as every thing else.*' 
.~^' It is not over, I hope," I said, ^* you will, I trust, 
have as happy hours, as you have now sorrowful ones ; 
but if you should not, remember^' that affliction is the 
common lot, and that you have no right to expect W 
escape it — ^you have health, you have youth, you have the 
testimony of a 'good conscience ; you have the approbation 
ofyour own mind, for manfully acting your part in life. — 
Of these your enemies cannot deprive you — they will 
follow you to America, and gladden the wilderaess where 
you may chance to reside— they will sweeten the rude 
morsel that labour procures you— they will lull you to sleeps 
in the sound of the torrent's roar, — while greatness, that 
wants them, will find its costly viands insipid, and aeek in 
vain (repose on its gilded sofas, and beds of down— you 
think the rich are to be envied — I tell you they are more 
to be pitied than you —they have the miseries of lassitude, 
of intemperance and vide-p— of ill-health, that folly 
engenders, of vice that gives no enjoyment, and of the 
greatest of all wants, that of having something to do; leave 
them their diseases and riches — take you your poverty and 
health — leave them their sensuality, their gluttony, and 
4runkenness— ^take you temperance- and content — leave 
ihem their plo^e apartments, their midnight revels, their 
burnipg tapers, their gilded canopies, their luxuriant 
carpets-r-rtake you ilie air which breathes so sweetly on 
you-*-the sun whicii cheers you, these birds which sing 
around U9*rrthis immisnse apartment of the universe — this 
green and verdant earth, which heaven itself has fitted 



250 

up for thfi gratificatiOQ of man" — Haying thus spoken, we 
cordially shook hands and parted. E migration from 

the North of Ireland to America has of late years greatly 
diminished— ^This is not so much, I fear, the consequence 
of any melioration of the condition of the people, as of 
arrangements of government ; they became terrified at 
the extent of the evil, and devised various means to stop, or 
at least to moderate it- —I do not wonder they should have 
been alarmed — some years it amounted to twenty, and 
never I believe was under ten thousand — a great proportioa 
of these were protestants — the catholic hardly ever 
emigrates — fondly attached to his country, to his friends^ 
to his parents, he seldom leaves them, when he can at all 
live among them. — When obliged by want or imprudence to 
quit his native place, he goes into the militia, or perhaps 
wanders as far as London. — The people of England judge 
the Irish nation by his character, with equal fairness, as, if 
a foreigner would form his opinion of English men and 
women, by the sailors and prostitutes on Portsmouth 
Point; or, as a sagacious captain of an Indiaman judges 
the empire of China, by the suburbs of Canton — ^It is most 
singular, indeed, the predilection of the Irish Catholic for 
the spot which gave liim birth ; and the reluctance and* 
sorrow with which he quits it. — One nygbt suppose that 
the physical evils of his situation attached him more 
strongly to it, 

" Dear is that shed to which Lis soul con-forms. 
And dear that hill which lifts him to the »torms ; * 
And as a child^ when scaring sounds molest^ 
Clings close and closer to the mother's breast. 
So, the loud torrent, and the whirlwind*s roar. 
But bind him to his native mountains more.'* 



251 

The Pfesbyterian^ like the Scotehmfl 
he thinks he can best earn a livelihood. 



€€ 



All places that the eye of heaven visits. 

Are to the wise man ports and happy havens.*' 



His attachment to the. country is not half so strong 
as the Catholic's 5 his energy is more, and his sensibility 
less. Oppressed by his landlord, whose exactions hardly 
allow him the necessaries of life, he seeks, most commonly 
in America, what Ireland denies him; where his perse- 
verjance and industry soon give him independence and 
affluence. The departure of these men is of infinite 
disadvantage V to their country — Active and enterprising, 
sober and reflecting, reading and reasoning — estimable 
even in their prejudices, for they aie all on the side of 
morality and religion, they are the best friends of a good 
government, as they are the bitterest enemies of a bad one — 
Their loss, I fear, will every year be more and more sensibly 
felt. 

" Princes and lords may flourish or may fade, 
s ^ ^ A breath can make them, as a breath has made ; 
But a bold peasantry, their country's pride. 
When once destroy'd, can never be supply'd. 

>■ 
The population of Ireland is rapidly becoming more Ca- 
tholic. This (however I may have written, with what many will 
term, an undue predilection in their favour) I consider a great 
evil. In every form of religion, there are many dogmas 
to which I cannot subscribe ; but I think Presbyterianism, 
as it nofw exists in the North of Ireland, is beyond all others 
the religion of reason. The proportion which Protestants 
bear to Catholics, however, is not diminishing from emigra- 
tion alone, but from various other causes. The Protestant 



2S2 

bk general does not many so young. He has more thi 
ideas oi an Englishman, and likes to have some ^ort of 
settlement before he takes a wife*— In consequence^ he b 
cxften thirty before he marries — At thirty the passions cool — 
and he seldom has a very numerous offirpring. The 
Catholic^ more thoughtless, more improvident, mote amo* 
Kms, perhaps, takes a wife when he is yet a lad ; piles up a 
heap of sods into a cabin, eats potatoes, and gets children like 
a patriarch of old. It is no unusual thing for his wife to bear 
ten or twelve children, before she ever thinks of stopping. 
How these poor infants are supported is the wonder. 
Heaven sends meat, where it sends mouths, is a commcn 
saying with the Catholic, and it must be owned he relies 
pretty much on the observation. We may see here how 
simple, and unsophiscated is nature, and how little it 
lequires. 

*' Allow not nature more than nature needs, 
Man's life is cheap as beast's." 

These poor, naked, ill-fed, and neglected chiUbren, 
grow up hardy, stout and vigorous men, capable of enduring 
fatigue, and facing danger ; apparently regardless of cold, 
or wet, or hunger, or thirst. What a contrast to the sickly 
and delicate sons of fashion, who are nursed, and pampered, 
and dandled into effeminacy — which may sail on ikt 
smooth current of prosperity, but is too frail and fragile 
a substance to encounter the rough and inevitable storms 
that agitate the ocean of human life ■ T he whole of 
my walk to-day was delightful. A. northern landscape 
changes so frequently its forms, that the pencil has dijBScuUy 
to catch it ; — it would be impossible therefore for the pen 
to do it justice — my descriptive powers are not great, new 
am I a great admirer of the descriptions of others ; yet I 
should be glad to give my London reader an idea of the 



253 

country I travelled through; it is so different from any 
thing he is accustomed to; here are no dead unvaried 
fiats^ whose dull uniformity wearies the eye, and 0|^esses 
the traveller. The landscape was varied by a beantifiil 
distribution of gentle undulations, and graceful eminences. 
By a fine river, that meandered through verdaiit fields ofi 
the left, and by lofty mountains which bounded'^the hori»m 
|n every direction. The appeamnce of these mountaint 
was at bnce awful and pleasing; the hand of industry 
had crept up theii sides, overcoming heath and rock; 
giving heat to coldness, drought to moisture, and fertility 
to steril barrenness; with the touch of a magician, 
converting dreary bogs into waving fields of corn, while 
their tops, enveloped in mist, bleak and dreary, in primitive 
4)arrenness, reared their heads in gloomy, but faithfbl 
evidence of the toil and labour of the men who could 
overcome such difficulties, and convert a dismal waste 
into a smiling Eden. The approach to tins town is 
likewise very fine— about half a mile from it, you ascend 
a steep hiU, on which there is a neat little village, and. 
some orchards — On emerging from the village you catch a 
partial view of the river underneath, and the opposite 
bank, whidi gradually- swells into a gentle eminenee, 
or rather chain of eminences, which run in a parallel dire<s<- 
tion to the hill on which I was walking; proceeding a 
little farther^ the town opens to the view, extending upwards 
of a male jalong the banks of the river — It was evening— 
The setting sun shed his rays on the hill which was 
, opposite me, and threw a ray of glory on the distant 
mountains* The lower part of the town, surrounded 
by water, appeared like a city in a lake, or like a Venice 
in miniature. The neat little cottages of the upper part, 
as I caught a partial view of them through the trees, 
realized the vis^on^ of the poet, and transported me, as 



it were, to Arcadia—*! do not aaj that Strabane will appear 
so to every body; short-sighted persons have a kind of 
second sight. They do not see what others see, but to 
make amends, often see what others do not. Much of 
this magic colouring, however, dissolves on entering the 
town — What was beautiful in perspective, loses its charms, 
contemplated at hand. — Strabane, like most pictures, 
many men, and some women, appears to most advantage 
at a distance.-— The streets are mean and narrow, — ^the 
houses, (with a few exceptions,) very, indifferent; in 
the extremities of the town, carelesisness and want, 
misery and neglect, are too apparent. This only applies 
to the habitations. — The police of the . town, as far as 
its power extends, seems to be excellent ; and reflects credit 
on the magistrate who presides over it. About the centre 
of the town is the market-house ; a neat plain building, 
erected about a hundred years ago. There is a lai^ clock 
placed on the top of it, which proclaims the hour with more 
noise than veracity ; as it is universally known over the 
country by the title of the lying clock of Strabane^ Consider- 
ably lower down, and nearly opposite eacli other, are the two 
principal inns. They were formerly gentlemen's housesy iNit 
have now shared v/hat Goldsmith- calls, ^^ The usual fate 
of a large mansion,''-*— Having first ruined the master by 
good hpusekeeping, it at last comes to levy contributions 
as an Inn. - "They are both, I believe, good houses ; but of 
this I can only speak by hearsay. When in Stmbaae^ I dp 
onotlive at an Inn. 



/ 



255 



y 



CHAP. XXII. 

STaABANJB. 

i SPENT the evening of my arrival iii a solemn, but 
pleasing manner. A few years ago, Sunday, in the north 
of Ireland, was a day of gloom and mortification. The 
morning was passed in listening to long sermons, and the 
evening in saying long prayers. To smile was criminal, 
or even to chat oh indifferent subjects. — Tliis has passed 
away, and a decent observance of Sunday only remains. 
After tea, which is always drank at seven o*clock, one of 
the family read a sermon of Dr. Blair's; after which we 
had some psalms. About a year ago, a travelling psalm- 
singer set up a school here, under the patronage of the 
Bishop of Derry. — When a man has the good fortune to be 
patronised by a bishop, he seldom fails of success. — He 
got a prodigeous number of scholars, of all ages and 
sexes, -*-grey age and youth, — people who had voices, and 
others who had none; — psalm-singing became a kind of 
rage ; — Grammachree Granua Uile, and the Blue bells of 
Scotland, were no longer remembered. The milliner at 
her cap, the tailor on his board, and the smith At his anvil, 
-chaunted hymns and anthems. — The choristers of Wes- 
minster, one should have thought, had emigrated" to ihe 
north of Ireland. This, however, was a temporary frenzy. 
The rage of psalm-singing seems to have given way to the 
rage of cards. Strabane consists of one very long street, 
two or three short ones, and a few lanes, of such unpro- 
mising aspect, that I contented myself with viewing them 
at a distance. ' In the upper part of the town, it will admit 



2ie 

(oi no greater exten&ion ; as it i» bouc^ed on die east-nd^ 
by a steep ridge of biU> and on the west by the precipice 
which overhangs the river. Building in the lower part has 
long been discontinued^ on account of the floods^ to which 
it is exposed. Strabane, therefore^ may be literally said to 
be in a tkrimng way; like. a breeding lady it is increasii^ . 
about the middle* The name is compounded of two Irish 
words^ Stragh, and Ban> which signifies white-home «r 
level. Why is was called white^ I cannot conjecture^ unless 
it was cliristened when the snow was on the ground^—- It is 
BOW hwus a non lucendo. It is a town of some antiquity, 
and was burned in the grand rebellion (1641) by Sir I^ielim 
O'Neile. The Protestant inhabitants were cruelly massa* 
cied. — A number fled for protection into the castle^ and 
defended it for some time. — The barbarous ruffian ordered 
it to be set on fire, and these unfortunate Protestants were 
consumed. The lady of Strabane, as she was called^ 1^ 
some extraordinary means alone escaped. — ^She lived to 
i^pear afterwards in evidence against Sir Phelim^ who was 
justly executed for his innumerable atrocities.*— He was a 
man of violent passions, mean parts, and little education. 
He communicated much of his own diabolical disposition 
to the rebellion which he guided : — perhaps, however5 this 
was unavmdable, — Men of humane dispositions will seldom 
be at the head of revolutions.— I am sure they will never 
be at the head^of them long. The ground on which the. 
castle stMd was long considered unhallowed and accurs* 
ed.«—- Imagination peopled the spot with spirits^ which 
murder had deprived of men, — shrieks of woe were heard 
in the blast, as it past sullen over the roofless walls ; appa« 
ritions, clad in white, wriskging their hands, and breathing the 
soft notes of sorrow, were seen gliding among the ruins : — an- 
gels, in flowing robes, and crowns of glory, were seen descend- 
ing to console them ; and the spectres of the blood-stained 



257 

deemons, who had mflicted such misery, fled howling at 
their approach. . The houses o the respectable inhabitants- 
are generally two stories, nor are any higher than three. 
They do not inherit, tlierefore, the predilection of their 
Scottish ancestors, in favour of lofty houses — the post of 
honour in an Edinburgh house, is well known to be the 
fourth or fifth story. A Scotchman once said, he ken'd 
vary weel- what gentility was, — he had lived all his life on a 
sixdi story, and was na come to London, to leeve on the 
ground. Though many of these houses are old, they have 
|[ modem appearance ; leaded windows have given place 
to sash ones ;™and the projecting buttresses, and, old- ' 
fashioned turrets, have disappeared like the hands that 
reared them. It is curious to remark the thickness of the 
. walls, as well as the timber. — Our ancestors built for 
posterity 5 — the present generation build, (as they live) for 
themselves.— -They trouble themselves little about those 
who are to follow, who in return, I suppose, will trouble 
themselves aslittle about them. — Jt was customary formerly 
to put the date, cai*ved on a large stone, over the door. — -It 
is astonishing to what perfection this must have been 
brouglit, in early times in Ireland. — The letters on one I 
have seen, are exquisitely well cut, and in perfect preserva- 
tion ; the date is 1646. In a perodical publication the inha- 
bitants of this town are made to amount to fiv«^thousand ; 
this strikes me as a mistake, as well as the i;iumber of 
houses. I might inform myself with tolerable accuracy, 
but do not think it worth my while to enquire. Coanting 
heads, and reckoning houses, is an equally wise method of 
giving an idea of a country, as that of the man of old, who ^ 
had a house to dispose of, and carried a brick of it in his 
pocket as a specimen. The proportion of Catholics and 
Protestants is of more importance. I should suppose' 
more than the half are Presbyterians, The. refpainder are 



n 



25p 

CatholicSy 23)A members of tbe fstablidied churcb^ ia 
nesgrly equal numbers. — As tbe weavers Iq the north of 
Ireland seldom reside in towns, the lower class of inhabi- 
tants are mostly mechanics and labourers. I should suppose 
when they are industrious they must earn nearly as. much sm 
people of the same description in England : — but whisky 
and party, are the great banes of industry iu beknd : 
though less, perhaps, in this town, than any other. It is I 
fear, a rare occurrence, for any assemblage of Protestants 
i|nd Catholics to take place, without disputing about religion 
first, and fighting afterwards. — On these occasions the 
Prot^staut generally has tbe advantage. Many reasons 
concur to give him it, without attributing to him either 
superior strength, or superior courage ; — he is of higher 
rank and importance in the community; he has been 
t^ght to value himself on his exertions in favour of 
government }'— he prides himself on being 'a Protestant, and 
a freeman. The Catholic is depressed and .dispirited. — He 
' hates the Protestant, biit he fears him, — for the party to 
which he belongs, which is powerful, and which he thinks 
is supported by tbe magistrate, and the state — ^but be fears 
the Protestant for himself. By the force of habit, by the 
tale of his ancestors* sufferings, his misfortunes, his bloody,, 
and everlasting'defeats. — It would not be in human nature^ 
that such a combination of circumstances should not 
produce some sense of inferiority. That opposed to him, it 
should not operate to a certain degree, in relaxing his 
exertions, and damping his heart. A French sailor has 
not less natural bravery than an Er^lish one ; Init he figihts 
without hope, though not withaut courage. He is defeated 
by his former defeats, — to speak in what would iU-natmredly 
be called the language of the country I am in^ — the batde 
is lost before it begins. It baa been observed that air 
Irishman (bjr which is m^aot a. Catholic) offosed to. a^ 






f^rotestant or Englishman, seldom fights well in his own 
country. — That he can fight well out of it, the history of 
Europe is a hloody witness ; as England has often experi- 
enced to her sorrow. At the battle of Fontenoy, the ever 
memorable English column moved undaunted, through 
hosts of surrounding foes — assailed by numerous batteries,^, 
by the flower of the French army^ it preserved itself 
linbioken — h\X% retired at length discomfited by the charge 
of the Irish brigade— the English, (observes lord Ches- 
terfield,) had at least the satisfaction of being defeated by 
tlieif own country meii-— it should have been less their 
satisfaction, than their shame, their sorrow, and remorse 
— shame for their folly in niaking such men their enemies, 
remorse for the woes they had inflicted, and sorrow that 
entire expiation could never be made. — Several complaints, 
were made to Louis the fifteenth, of the irregularities of 
trie liisfi brigade— Yoiir countrymen (said he peevishly to 
the general who commanded them|J give me more trouble 
than ail my other troops beside/' — '^ Sire, (replied the officer 
with felicity of expression equal to the courage with which 
his troops fought) all your majesty's enemies make the same 
compaint." — I Have had occasion to look into the habitations 
of several mechanics, both Protestants and Catholics 
---I am sorry I cannot bestow much precise on them 
-—They are confused and littered, — There is a species of 
squalid wretchedness, more a-km to neglect than poverty — for 
m reality there was not poverty — they had the necessaries 
ot life ; and they who have the necessaries of life, cannot be 
said to be poor.— -I have seen them at their meals, which 

were either of flesh meat, or salt herrings, with potatoes and 

■ _•,.'». I. > . ■- » •• 

butter, or milk. —At one of these meals, the table was a 
large stool — the candle was stuck in a turf, and the potatoe 
pot was lifted^ up and laid at its side. — The family were all 
m dliTereht attitudes — one lying like an ancient Roman, 

s 2 



260 

another sitting cross-legged like a Turk^ and a thirds (he 
who said grace I suppose) kneeling. — In their persons^ how- 
ever, they appear to he more cleanly — they shave tolerablj 
regular and change their linen, perhaps twice a week. — 
The upper class of inhabitants, are either merchants, or 
shop-keepers — they carry on very considerable business — 
and are a very industrious, and highly respectable body of 
men. — I do not know that there is a town in his Majesty** 
dominions, where trade is conducted with greater integiity^ 
with more liberality, and less jealousy, than in Strabane. — 
The Mourne, which 6ows past Strabane is a beautiful river, 
winding through a romantic country, deepening into a dark 
Und solemn stream, overhung with wood, in same parts gurg- 
ling as a silver brook, over shallow fords, and pointed rocks^ 
in others.*— It is subject, in winter, to frequent and sudden 
floods, which often rise high in the town, to the material in- 
convenience and injury of the inhabitants. — A person who 
Eves in a level country, can hardly conceive the sudden 
change, the mountain floods, pouring down in innumerable 
channels, produce in this river. — Touched as if by the 
gloomy wand of a magician, the fairy brook of beauty 
becomes a wizards murky well. — The clear and chrystal 
stream beconies a bleak and troubled ocean — raised into 
waves, roaring like thunder, and flowing with a rapidity that 
dizzies the sight. — A flood which I saw some years ago^ 
was not more awful in Its aspect, than destructive in its 
effect ; and the resistless and extended torrent, while it filled 
every beholder with terror, carried desolation into every 
habitation within its reach : from obvious causes the poorer 
inhabitants of the town were most exposed to its influence, 
and destitute of means to moderate its violence, or to avoid 
its injuries, they were doomed to meet the utmost violence 
of the storm — which, impetuous in its progress , as. sudden in 
its origin, burst upon them in all the fulness of accumulated 



261 

• 

fUry in a short space after the first wave had given warning 
of its approach.— To make the calamity still greater, it 
6ccurred amidst the gloom and silence of the night ; and 
before aid could be offered all aid was vain — I was young 
then, and had not seen much — slight distress appeared 
great in my eyes. — I thought the mind could hardly con- 
ceive scenes of greater distress than those which the depar* 
ture of the water exposed to my view.™ ^Tlie unhappy suf- 
ferers were found naked, and in want — with scarce a faggot 
to heat their famished limbs, or to expel the moisture from 
their damp and noisome floors — and many without a mouth- 
ful to support debilitated nature, or to cheer their spirits, 
sinking under the load of miseries they had undergone. — I 
record with pleasure, that the inhabitants of Strabane display- 
ed, on this occasion, the same spirit of humanity by which 
they have uniformly been actuated. — Large sums were col- 
lected, and liberal and immediate assistance was afibrded. — 
Nor was this generous disposition confined to Strabane, or 
its neighbourhood — it spread in every direction, and contri- 
butions were received from very distant parts. — It appears 
strange to the traveller, that so injudicious a situation 
should have been chosen to build a town on— men seldom 
think, and are too apt to judge preceding generations, by the 
one in which they live — damp and unwholesomeness, were 
not thought of by men accustomed to fatigue, and unac- 
quainted with comfort.-— Flood, fire, or the devouring pesti- 
lence, were little dreaded by those who lived in continual 
apprehension of greater dangers. — In the unfortunate times 
in which thje foundations of Irish towns were laid, man 

I 

had no evil «o immediate, no danger so imminent, no enemy 
so fierce, and barbarous, as his fellow man. — In Strabane, 
therefore, be availed himself of the protection which the 
Castle (built at the lower end of the town,) as well as the 
confluence of the rivers Finn and Mourne, into a rapid 



262 

stream, afforded him — of the wretched state of sociely. at 
that time In treland,. some idea may be formed from the 
followiiig circumstances. — About a quart/er of a mile from 
this town, (on what is called the Woodend road,) there is 
a small brook called the kissinff tree burn. — ^When a persou 
went on business to Derry^ (only fourteen miles distance) 
it was customary for his friends to accompany him this 
length, and to take leave of him, often with tears an4 lamen- 
tations, as of one they might never see again. — ^ven within 
the last fifty, years, a shop-keeper ^oing to Dublin, made a 
will, and took a solemn leave of his acquaintances ; and was 
welcomed back with feastings and acclamations. — ^An 
E^nglishman, who rolls oyer his peaceful lai^d ipa chariot, or 
post chaise, without meeting, or dreaming of mischance^ will 
think that daemons, not men, were then the inhabitants of 
Ireland. — Let him reflect, however, that the Irish were two. 

distinct nations — that they could never be said to l^e at 

,'■'■■ * » " 

peace. Jt was either active war, or a hollow truce. — Let - 
us suppose (the supposition is not impossible) the French. . 
had landed in England, and got partial possession of h.-— . 
Tliat each party exhausted by the struggle, took a few 
months repose to enable them to renew the fatal contest— 
doe§ he think that hatred and malice, fear and dread, would, 
repose likewise. — If the English were on Shooter's HilL 
and the French were at Canterbury — does l^e think that 
a trip to Margate would be a jaunt of pleasure ?7— I hope^in 
Almighty God, that such an event is never likely to happen. 
— Let us not be too confident however. — Nations, no 
more than individuals, have all joy and no sorrow. — Oj^nk 
with former prosperity, we do not think of the precipice ou 
which perhaps we stand. — Calamity has long been' busv on 
the earth, but it was not English calamity. — We have.' 
beard the sound of war, but its rude dm before it irot our. 
length, was softened down to a gentle breeze.— We have 






2d8 

• 

beard ofcwxtttites tava^ed, plains desolated, and thousands 
massacred*— But they were distant countries, distant plains, 
distent thousands. — Austria has fallen, Prussia has fallen, 
Spain has faUm---did we ever ask ourselves whose turn may 
come next } 



CHAP. XXIL 

Strabanbw 

The PrevincAf Ulster is encompassed on three sides by 
the sea* It is about one hundred and sixteen miles in 
length, and one trandted in breadth. It contains nine 
QORuaities, ihree hundred and sixty-five parishes, one Arch- 
fafahopriek, ai^ six bishopricks. — ^The air is temperate and 
salubrious; being cooled by various wind^ in summer, and 
quafified by frequent rains in winter. The temperature, 
tberdcve, is' miMer than in* England, both with respect to 
cald and heat, especidly the former. Show of a month's 
duration on the gromid is a^ rarephendmenon; — and some 
winters are< seen witfepotit it altogether. The seasons are 
later than in England. The spring and autumn more tardy in 
their aipptoach, as also the winter. The fall of the leaf is later 
lv»e than in* Engiand. Ti'adltion and history both inform us 
thaifew countries' of equal extent were better timbered than 
Ulsiar. But the natives, repeatedly hai-assed by the inroads 
and encroachments of the English, frequently found asylum 
ia their fbrests, from the swords 'of their invaders. — These 
beoame^ therefore^ an object of equal jealousy and ven- 
geance, and the destroying axe generally accompanied the 
sword^ in the joint extirpation of woods and njen. Ulster 
then became denuded 5— and the long continuance of civil 



264 

dif cord; the fluctuation of poperty, and the hopeless despon* 
dency which hung over this devoted province* have left it 
destitute of its ancient beauties for several ages. The as- 
pect of Ulster, therefore, is dreary to the eye accustomed 
to the shady groves, the extensive plantations, and nume* 
rous forests of England. — The want of hedges, the nuaie- 
rous bogs, the appearance of many of the habitations, and 
of many of their inhabitants, no doubt heighten this ; and 
an Englishman, who seldom takes more than a cursory 
glance of the countries he travels over, is apt to prdnounce 
it a spot for which nature has done little, and man has done 
less. He is wrong in both these conclusions ; — nature has 
been bountiful, and man has not ill-perfo i # Ld his part ; — 
better than could be expected, when the history of t^is ill- 
fated province is considered. The waves which break upon 
its rocky shores, the tempests which howl over its lofty 
mountains, are the peaceful circles of a lake, the solt 
breezes of the south, compared to the storms, which ava- 
rice and ambition, hatred and malice, fanaticism and bigotiy, 
have raised, — and which are still felt in their oonsequences, 
after a lapse of some hundred years. — The history of mmt 
is said to be the history of his crimes and his woes. I hope 
not in the former, but certainly in the latter, Ulster stands 
in melancholy pre-eminence.— I know of no equal extent 
of country, where equal misery has been inflicted, for an 
equal number of years: — like the lightning-struck tree, oa 
a solitary common, it still bears in its withered trunk, and 
leafless branches, the marks of the judgments with which 
heaven, (no doubt for wise purposes) has visited it.*— It 
was first invaded in the year 1177? by Sir John Conrcy, a 
gallant knight who had served under King Henry the Second, 
in his wars in England and France. — He set-out from Dab* 
lin in January, with twenty-two knights, fifty Elsquires, and 



W5 

about seven hunted foot soldiers ; — all chosen men^ on 
whose courage he could depend : — he marched through 
Meath and Louth, and arrived at Down^ without any 
molestation : h«re he found provisions and other necessaries 
for his small company, who had been half famished in Dub^ 
lin. — O'Donnell, the Ulster chieftain, having assembled a 
large army, purposed to besiege him in Down; when Sir 
John, judging it better to adventure the fight in the field, 
than to be shut up and famished in the town, came to an 
engagement, and forced O^Donnell, after the loss of num- 
bers, to retreat before him. After this successful introduc 
tion to his conquests, he fought four other great battles, in 
all of which he was victorious ; — ^he penetrated as far 
as Dunluce, in the most Northern part of the province, 
overcame all opposition, and subdued the whole of Ulster to 
the obedience of Henry the Second. — He was requited for 
this service, by being the first Englishman dignified with 
any title of honour in Ireland, by a formal creation. — ^The 
king, in 1181, creating him Earl of Ulster, and annexing 
thereto the Lordship of Connaught, with a grant by patent, 
to him and his heirs, that they should enjoy all the land in 
Ireland he could gain by his sword, together with the dona- 
tion of Bishopricks and Abbies, reserving from him only ho~ 
mage and fealty. It was to this lord, and his successors, 
the heirs male oDui family, that King John granted the 
extraordinary privilege, (their first obeisance being paid,) of 
being covered in the royal presence of him, and his suc- 
cessors. Kings of England. — ^The reader, unacquainted with 
it, will find a curious account of this transaction, in Han* 
mer'3 Chronicle, or Sir Richard Cox*s history of Irelsind. 
The privilege of being covered in the king's presence, is to 
tliis day enjoyed by the Lord Kinsale, as the lineal heir 
male of his body. Alaioricus^ the twenty-third baron 



asserted it hy walkitig too and fro with his hat on his head^ 
in the presence chamber, before King William. — The king 
oi)S«ryiiig him, aent one of his nobles to enquire the reason 
of hisi ^fearing befoie him with his head covered.— -Tb 
whom he replied, he very well knew in whose presence he 
sjtood, and the reason why he wore his hat that day was« 
heeause he stood before the King of England. — ^This answer 
being told tk8 king, and his lordship approaching w^er the 
throne, was* required by Ms majesty to explati^^^^Jftibclf ; 
which he did to this effect : — ^^ May it please yotrr r^ajesty, 
IP'y liuune is Courey, and I am lord of Kinsale in your king- 
dom of Iceland j— the reason of my appearing covered in 
yoar majesty's presence, is to assert the ancient privilege of 
ipy fimuly, granted to Sir John de Courey,^ Earl of -Ulster, 
aodhisheks, by John, King' of England, for him and his 
suQcessQi^ffor even'*— -The king replied, ** that he remem- 
oerod he had such a nobleman, and believed the privilege he 
asserted to. be- his. right ;-—and^ giving him his hand to kiss. 
Ills, lordalup. paid his obeisance, and remained uncovered. — 
J(ob& tl|e twenty-fifth knrd> beihg presented in September, 
1062^ to his pcesent majesty, by the Earl of Hertford, had 
agm thsi honour of asserting the ancient privilege of hiil 
family^ by wearing his hAt in die royal presence. The sub- 
^lis•iaa^aff Ulster to ibe English government, as mfght be 
eiqpeeted^ was^ short livedo — It was extorted by force, and' 
whe^< thufwas' removed' the desii^ of independence returned. 
-^Bar.upwardsxxf'fott? centuries after its nominal subjuga- 
^D^ it contiiMied a prey to anarchy and confusion, to . 
slaughter and dentttadon^ In turn the Irish and English pre- 
vaikd-andtwreabed their vengeance on each other.' — Constant, 
contest engendered the most violent hatred-~Constant dau- 
gfff thfiOMst deadly raaliee — and constant slaughter, the most 
feriMiiout' omelty. — It- is bard to say which of the parties 
was the worsts nor is it now of much consequence to en- 



2G7 

^uire. By tt sijiguUr refine^eat ou oai^fo^We, rsUgiQii^ 
. which should have been the healing baisaei of tfe<?se raa* 
corpus passipns, was pouned like molten k^d m^f>^ thw 
scalding sores—JEDgiishmen, and Irishmen, npurd^xe^ eacli^ 
others, happiness on earth. Protestants dnd Catbplip$» 
like daemons, stopt not here.— Witnessing the tohnres at, 
their expiring victims, the^y xejqic^d that those tortufe^ \ver« 
but the l^^ginning; of those which should last for ever, 
beypod the grave, — The gre^^t iiauh of J^nglish dlpniiQipa 
in Ulster, and in every part of Ireland was, that a sutllciexil;- 
number of n^i^n, vyas, not sent at pnce, eifec^tu^Uy to subduct 
the Island) and retain ii; in subjection, till its df;$ire of' 
independence had pa$^ed away. The system pursued Miiaai' 
the most unfo^nate that could have been dfjvisiedj-r-A 
dwart in mercy, but in cruelty a giant— fiJtern^tely der;. 
feating a^d defi^ated, — ravj^ing. and ravaged, torturingi 
and tortu.^d, it wi^s. top ^eble tp b^ ipaQly, too piopr to b^u 
generous, too ijn^uqh i^^ed to, fyr^et, a^^d too much in|uc«/ 
. ingto forgiv^,-:rr"AiJ <)fficqr ip Qujeen Eliaiiabeth's.s^ke. 
aqqu^nts lis, tl^at tl^os^, pl^c^ in au,thoriity, wpuid di»m^ 
together, pi^yjj^p, three or, four hundred pf the; uQAmp6i>. 
tipg coi^nti^, pojik, under, itfeteu^of, doling th^m ^&mm, 
whqn soldiers would he. orderi^ tpi^ak^ ^ sinddon attaiek> 
upon thejpnt aiid cut them ofl-^ljh^ same antfapf likewifliejL 
asserts, that if. a man hacl^ done; M^rpqg, submitted and rer 
chived pt^rdoa — ujgon b^ng charged i^i^ith a sj|ibseq[iientL^ 
offisnce, t)vou^ be wpu|d vpluqtarily app^r b^c^e;ii/pabli^ 
session, to ai\S];v:er tp the a,pcusatio% I\e ^i^mld^ without^ 
being .admitted to trial, be.exfLQutedfqn his fprj^r/QfFenceu 
In the latter paijLpj^ her, reigni Queen. ESlizab^th beoamcL 
fully sensible. of the, impoi5t%pfle of .Irf^4* to Eq^iand^^r: 
She was a, wise PrincCj^iji andas-the, refu^oi^jp.wbifja impi^r . 
sedthis^ conviction ^qiji b^, ^avf e^YmS^^l^^rt fprce. at>the« 



2es 

acquainted with them. Philip the second^ King of 

Spain, was the most implacable enemy of England, — Par- 
tial invasions of Ireland were attempted by him, several 
years before the sending out of his Invincible Armada. 
The courage of the British Navy, with the assistance of a 
storm having defeated this formidable armament, seveoteeo 
of the ships that escaped, were forced, by tempestaoos 
weather, on* the coast of Ulster. The intercourse of the 
Spaniards with the natives, occasioned by this accident^ 
tended to increase their discontents against government 
imd to prepare their minds for insurrection and rebellion. 
To assist them in it, stores and money were given them 
from the ships, and the most liberal assistance was pro- 
mised from l^>ain. — Spain, of all foreign countries, is the 
most favourably situated for an intercourse with Ireland. 
The Spanish coast stretches so far out into the Atlantic 
ocean, as to lie to the westward of most of the Irish har-* 
hours. — Westerly winds, which mostly prevail there, arc 
favourable for coming from Cape Finisterre to Cork, Wa* 
terford, &c. The northern Spanish shore in fact lies both 
East and West of the Irish coast ; — and Spain is better 
situated for constant ^communication with Ireland, than 
France, or perhaps than any English Harbour within the 
British Channel. — England thus found herself in danger cS 
being beset on East and West, by the power of Spain, and 
ot lying in the middle, between the land forces of the 
Spamards, then centered-in the Netherlands, and tbeir 
Naval strength and armaments, which might he^stationed 
in the harbours of Ireland, — These considerations deter- 
mined Queen Elizabeth to make uncommon efforts to 
aeeure the possession of Ireland. — An army of twenty 
thousand men well provided, was sent, which, assisted by 
successive reinforcements from £lngland, effected a com.^* 
fdete red)|ction of all the diflierent Iiords and Chiefs, vrba. 



.J 



2m 

till then, had ruled in the Island, after a war that lasted 
about seven years. The Province of Ulster was the last 
in submitting. The war was carried on by Lord Essesr, 
and some generals who preceded him, with indifferent 
success. — Charles Blunt, Lord Mountjoy was more for- 
tunate ; less daring, but more cunning, he wielded a weapon 
which the generous and noble Essex would have disdained. 
The sword was slow and uncertain. — He called in a pow- 
erful auxiliary which was effectual. — He destroyed the cul- 
tivated fields, and every thing which afforded the natives 
the means of subsisten<;e. — ^A famine ensued with its 
shocking consequences— ^thousands of the wretched insur- 
gents, driven from their desolated habitations, wandered 
into woods and fastnesses, where, utterly destitute of the 
means of subsistence, they perished for want. — ^The common 
hi^ifways exhibited spectacles of misery, which the com- 
passionate traveller could not behold, without feeling his 
breast glow with indignation against those cruel passi<Mis 
ef pride, of avarice, and ambition, which produced efiects 
so shocking and disgraceful to humanity. — ^^ No spec- 
tacle," says Morrison, " in his history of Ireland, was more 
frequent in the ditches of towns, find especially in wasted 
countries, tlian to see multitudes of these poor people dead, 
with their mouths all coloured gr;een by eating nettles, docks, 
and all things they could rend up above ground.'^ — Many 
to appease the rage of hunger devoured human carcasses^ 
of which a horrid instance was witnessed by Sir Arthur 
Chichester, Sir Bichard Morrison, and other officers of the 
Queen's ^oops, who bc^d three children, the eldest of 
whom was not above ten years of age, in the act of eteting 
the flesh of their deceased mother, with circumstances too 
shocking for a particular statement here. — The most en- 
'diimastic ardor for freedom and independence, could not 
long support itself under such complicated wretchedness. 



1 



270 

An opposition to the authority of the English govehainfent 
was put ati end to. — ^The spirit of Ulster resistance Wai 
tnrayed, to use the expression of Sir John Davies, as it 
Were in il mortar^ with the sword, famine, and pestilejicii 

fl^getfa^r. ^The English government being now univer- 

ijally established by force of arms, there was ^ probalfiilit]^ 
that the enmities of former parties would be in time for- 
gotten, — that those inhabitants who had been c6<&pel1ed 
to adopt the English laws and customs, would gradoAtl^ 
aeeommodate themselves to them, and that a lasting pel6ti 
Might prevail in Ulster 5 — but she h^d not yet arrived ^t t&i^ 
consummation of her suffering ; and events unfortunately 
tbbk place, a few years afterwards, which gave rise to* silfi- 
mosities and contests as obstinate and bloody a^ t&d^ 
iH)tich had been lately terminated. — The jifcace which Wki 
s^iwir ih blood, was not watered by ihercy. The Ckt&dfici 
W^re subdued by force, and no atteiiipts wercf mailfe to ^kfS 
fliiim by kindness. They were outraged and insult^d^ plUii- 
dkitA and persfecuted, — robbed of their knds arifl depHv^ 
of 'thfe free exercise of their religioii. — That they did not 
todeavour to soften the resentment of their conquerors^' tfy 
utiqilaKfied submission, rather than heighten it by desp^^^' 
biit unavailing opposition, is deeply to* bi^ rcfj^etterf; Bttf 
Irttlcf to be wondered at. In the 1641, year availing thl^&- 
*lves of the situation of Ettgland; whteh w^ ^s^<^^ 
by the cBis^nsibrii between the Enig atirf ParKamfeht; tiSey 
Wdke into a dreadful instinreetion, well knownby the nam^ 
6f the Irish massacre. — A rebellion wKich/takeft iia all -itft 
horrors, is alinosrt unparalleled hi the history Of ^e ' W^Ai, 
aMd has caijt'as ioxA a stain ofi tiiis pi^ovinre as is^to 'b^^ "ifici 
with irf the aifnals"* of any country vs4iWtsoever*---^g* i3Kt 
Protestants T^ere taScen by surpris^e, they HiH no oppdhii^iji 
df concertitig measures for their mtitud" defeirce.---feS& 
man sepmMy ehdeavoforea to protect hitiSifctf/ itrSot&e- 



271 

quence 0f which Ae Catholics iiaet With a vej^ fee* 
ble resistawe.— Bat when their feais s&bsided> they 
mited io several p^^e^Sy iipdet the cmnmand of the! 
geatlemen who hcid received coTOmissfons^ and had been 
fifveedjiy supplied with arms by goverQtnent^ and m^A 
ingorous efforts foi* their presenration. They defe^Ml the 
insurgents upon'Ofne or two occaisions. Enra^^d by this*^ 
several of tihie cai^holic leaders gave themselves up withoul! 
lestraiRt^ to the impulse of sangoinary passions. Numbersr 
of helpless anduisoi&ndiiig protest^te were put to death tii 
ocild b}oc>d|--otliers robbed of theit property^ aind driven- 
from their hafaitatioits to the open fieldbs, whem th<^y We#6 
exposed to perish, by the accnnluteted ^vil$ oi - cl^ld> 
i\aiK»doiess> ftrnMnse^ and sorrow. Such Wds the dbndu^tpf 
the catholics: — in their ig&or^nce^ in theit f<^ttrs^ il^ thi^ir' 
miseries and of^resfiiiotis, some palliation may be fbuild; 
bat what can be alleged in favour of this pt^e&tant^, Whd' 
tortored and massacred the helpless and unofi^nding M*- 
their turn. — Of the punishments inflidted ^ in DtibMn,- by 
order of government, I shall not speak^-^-becakUse diey 4ii^ 
but imperfectly known. I shall only metstion what is oti^- 
reoord. Tiie English parliaiitieDit in their fir^ indignation, 
against the design of engaging catholic jRxreei^ to Slj^ 
against them in England, voted that no quarter fi/hottldj^b^ 
given to these forces ; or, in the less ofFensi^ lanfgua^ 
of their own resolutions "that they should betrf^ by 
martial law^ in th« place where they shonld btf tak^i'^ 
-^wSwaiily, a oommimder of one of their sfaips> tddk a 
traoorsport vessel, with one hun^teed aind fifty meuy bd#fi^ 
for BristoL-^^Tbe mereilees wretch seletfted sefetaty of MS 
captives^ who wett of Irish bifth, and though they had faiith- 
f idly served tbeUng, instantly plunged them into the seaf.- The- 
Seottish soldiers, who had reififorcedthe ^ttrrildk^^fCMtet^' 
fergmy issued out one fatal nighty iiit6 an a^AceiM^tHet, 
called Island-Magee> where a number of the poorer catholics 



.» 



272 

resided, unoffending, and untainted by the rebellion. If 
we may believe one of the leaders of this party, thirty 
families were assailed by them in their beds, and massabred^ 
with calm and deliberate cruelty. — A like desolatSovf 
followed tliis rebellion as the preceding one.—-** About the 
yefff 1652 and 1653,'' says an author who was an ocular 
witness of the state of things, ** the plague and finhine 
had so swept away whole countries, that a man migbt 
travel twenty or thirty miles, and not see a living creature.^ 
Our soldiers would tell stories of the places where diey sscff 
a smoke, — it was rare to see eitlier svocke by ^y, or firr or* 
candle by night, — and whdn we cHd meet wiA two ot thrW* 
poor cabinesj^ none but very aged men, and women and 
children (and these with the prophet might havecom]^buBied,'^ 
* we are become as a bottle in the smdce, our sUn is Uadt 
like an oven, because of the terrible famine') were fotflnl^ 
in them. I have seen tliose miserable creatures ptuckii^^ 
stinking carrion out of a ditcfa^ Uack and rotten^ — and' 
have been credibly informed that they <ligged corpses ouli of *^ 
thegrave to eat. " B ut general misery makes little inip[^B6^ * 
sion.-- r-We read of tliousands who peridk withoiMt emodon, 
because our minds have only general ideas, becaioise aH we 
km^w of these thousands is, thAt they lived, and that 
th^ died. But let us take a group^-^tbe QjEnaltempla- 
tion of misery is good for min, it softens and subdues 
his heart,**-it abates sconewhat of the pricte and axuo- 
gance, which is the gr^eat source of htsmirfortunes^.iHEMl 
his crimes.«-^-Let us take one &mily only> of that imneUse 
multitude, of all ages aa^ sesfies, of husbands m»d £&• 
t)iers, and sons, of wi^^ and mothers, aad dai^t^s, Bia»^ 
aaered, starved, viokf^d, whoaeblanclied bones, were they -> 
brought together, would foim a hes^, from which ambitMiii' 
might attempt to.scale the havens, . aft^ JBEavijig satiated i 
Ml appetite upon eailii**»iSee ttaat Iklle .nftlleyft 



27S 

4ows through i^—- -see that cablo j^hadowed by trees, it is 
humble and mean, but it is the abode of sensibility and 
happiness — a crowd dances before the door-'— it is a 
wedding; the village lad takes a partner, gay and thoughtles» 
as himself, — he is just entering into life— joy sparkles in 
bis eye, his heart beats high with hope— -his parents 
partake his felicity, the bed-ridden graiidmother crawls 
out to view it, to bless him, and to die. — This is happiness, 
if happiness is to be found up<m earth. Turn the pic- 
ture : — The happiness is flown, — ^the daemons of war have 
entered the valley of peace, — the crowd is dispersed, — the 
murderers are at their heels, — the bridegroom too — ^look 
at his bridal bpd, — see her who sorrows over him, — wl>o 
alone does not fly, — she is his bride,^ — ^lie would have 
shared his little cabin, and smoothed his cares, — she looked 
forward to years of happiness, — but npw curses, in the 
bitterness of her heart, the barbarous authors of her woes^ 
-*-but not long she curses, — sorrow for the murdered, is . 
swallowed up in fear for herself,: — for, lo ! the brutal crew 
retura,-^-anotber daemon rules them now — their rage . of 
blood, has given pls^e to the rage of lust: — she calls to 
hijn who loved her, — his ear is closed, — he hears not,-rhis 
eye is dim,™ he sees not, — his heart is cold, — it beats 
not; — happy insensibiJity, he sees not violation, which he. 
could not prevent, — he sees not expiring innocence, which 
at length finds in death a welcome release from the 
outrages of men, — and which, even in death, casts a glance 
to heaven, to ask why it permitted this* — Behold the 
u Importunate father, and the remainder of liis offspring who 
gather round^-r-behold helpless innocence, that smiles in 
the murderer's face, — sickness that a few hours would have 
destroyed, — inhumanly butchered. One solitary son, whom 
chance, not humanity has saved, only remains, — unhappy 
chance which' has veserved him for misery greater thim 



274 

all,-^thc brook afibrds him water, but the earth gives him 
no food, — the berries, the brambles, the leaves have already 
been devoured by men :— -O the days, the hours of famine, 
of slow consuming death, which be spends, — how is his 
frame wrecked with convulsions — how often does the heart 
die within him, — how often does the cold damp of the 
grave, stand in large drops upon his forehead, and again 
disappear,— famine subdues affliction,^ hunger triumplis 
over piety, over nature ;— the sorrowing mourner is become 
a ravenous beast ; in frenzy he gnaws his flesh, and sucks 
his own blood: O horror! horror! — his father's corpse 
too ! — he drives away the flies that had settled on it, makes a 
meal and expires ! — ^lU-fated inhabitants of Ireland, how little 
seems your guilt compared to your woes. — Never was misery 
like your misery, never was sorrow like your sorrow; — your 
noble natures have been degraded^— your glowing hearts 
have been chilled by the fiend's grasp, — the milk of human 
kindness has been curdled in your breasts, and the seeds of 
all misery, and all vice, have been sown, even in the bosom 
of virtue itself; — for endless years your harp has been 
unstrung ; few have been the notes to which it has vibrated, 
and those were not the notcsof joy : — O, what a wreck of hijf^ 
man happiness have ambition and bigotry made ; — how hava 
they dimmed the emerald ; how have they dyed your green 
island with blood, — what misery have they not inflicted, oq 
those whom they murdered ; how much more on those who 
survived ! — O, what a record would that be, which con- 
tained one year of the misery of these long and dreary 
years :-- -could it trace the ferocity that curdled the blood, 
that freezed the marrow in the bones of Irish happiness, 
— that poisoned the fountain of your enjoyment, even in 
the source.™An author of respectability wishes, that the 
massacres I have mentioned should be buried in everlasting 
oblivion. — I am not of his opinion^ — I would hold ithem*ttp. 



275 

ti$ a beacon, to the present and all succeeding generation^, 
to avoid the unfortunate rock, on which the prosperity of 
Ulster has made such fatal shipwreck ; — for it is not, I 
fear, in the nature of things that ^ch a portentous comet, 
should not drag a long tail of misery, (of which the end 
!s not yet come) after it. Is there a heart so obdurate that 
aoes not feel compassion, for the woes I have described ? 
— that does not shrink with horror, at the. idea of a possi- 
bility of a repetition of them? — Yet the repetition is not 
possible only, but probable, if some means are not speedily 
found to conciliate the catholics of Ireland : by concession 
and kindness ;— biit (it >vould be useless to disguise it) 
it must be^greait conciliation, great kindness. It is impos- 
sible in the present state of Europe, to govern them much 
longer by force ; the advice of so humble an individual as I 
am, will be little attended to. Yet for the sake of England, 
of Ireland, and of humanity, 1 wish that I could commu- 
nicate to the breasts of others of greater influence, the one 
half of what presses on my heart at this instant. In the 
deep stillness and gloom of the atmosphere, I see the 
greatness of the gathering storm 5 — in tlie tremulous move- 
ments of the earth, I feel the sullen approach of the 
earthquake which is to overthrow Irish prosperity.—- rThe 
thunderbolt is forging, which is again to shiver the 
rock of Irish happiness. — May heaven avert the stroke. 
Protestants, Catholics, (I ' fear I shall make this subject 
tiresome — yet I cannot be done) — you are struggling on 
the brink of a precipice which yawns to swallow you both 
— You who guard so strongly your unnatural supremacy 
— You who contend so strenuously for imagined rights 
— You who view each other with scowling eye — You 
whose glance, had it the fabled basilisk's force, would strike 
each other dead, think on the scenes I have described 
— think on your suffering country; — her ravaged plains, 

t2 



2>6 

lier reeking houses^ herovertumed altars.- *Is all that yo« 
ivould withhold, — Is all that you could acquire, worth the risk 
of one month's renewal of horrors such as these ?-*-Mar)l^ 
I say it, Protestant, if you do not conciliate, if you do not 
forego your pride, your .arrogance, your supremacy; 
Catholic, if you do not abate your violence, if you do not 
forget, if you do not forgive, if once you launch on the 
hideous ocean of civil war, you will be a prey to the heavy 
evils which afBicted your forefathers. — Your fields will 
again be without living, and your ditches be filled with the 
dead. — The air will be putrid with exhalations, the winds 
of heaven will scatter pestilence, and the sun will be 
dimmed with the steam of human woe. — Protestants, do 
you think that four millions of people will live contented, 
in submissive obedience to one ? — Catholics, do you think 
that protestants, whose energies you know, will be con- 
quered without a struggle, and should you conquer ; (which 
I do not deny Is probable) will it be a bloodless victwy i 
— Will you suffer no loss; — ^wIU no catholic blood be 
shed ? — You cannot think this — will it be a joyful victory 
even — no not joyful, for you are men, and when unwarped 
by prejudice, have humane and benevolent hearts ? — You 
would not rejoice over thousands, and tens of thousands 
of your countrymen, whose livid corpses, whose streaming 
blood, and gaping wounds, would rise up In judgment to 
heaven against you.— Revenge dies with what it feeda on 
—Hatred would be hurled in the graves of the protestants, 
but remorse would survive to gnaw your own hearts. — Your 
ancestors suffered much misery in the last century*-^! 
regret as much as you that they did| — but men ware 
barbarous then, you should be now more civilized. — ^It 
would be no consolation to you, to iaiict misery in your 
turn. — The real evils of life are many, and we cannot 
^cape from them )-»»do not disquiet yourselves too much 



277 

ahaat artificial ones^-— That you greatly exaggerate 
yours, is to me evident) — they wound your pride, but 
they do little other injury ; — they would break little on 
the sober current of life, if you would let it flow its 
'course ; — cultivate domestic virtues ;— enjoy present 
Uessings; — forgive, if you cannot fprget former wrongs* 
Happy are they, if they knew their own huppiness, who 
nave no greater misfortunes to complain of, than that they 
cannot command armies, preside as judges, or have seats iQ 
parliament. 

" In every government^ though terron reign, 
Tboaf^ tyrant kings, or tyrant laws restrain. 
How small^-of all that human hearts endure. 
That part which lawsor kings can cause or cure ! 
Still to ourselves in every place consign'd. 
Our own felicity we make or find : 
With secret course which no loud storms annoy^ 
Qlides the smooth current of domestic joy/' 



GJJAP. 3CXIV, 

Strabanh. 

t OR reasons it is unnecessary to mention, I stay longer 
here than I originally purposed. Beside motives of pro-» 
pri^, 1 have some of inclination«<.-.Like the rich man in 
the parable, I fare sumjituously every day : I hope there 
the comparison ends, and that I am not to go farther and 
fare worse,*-- The inhabitants of Strabane possess, in an 
eminent degree, the industry and probity of their Scottish 
wc^tors 5 they possess likewise a virtue of genuiw Irish 



278 

growth, more acceptable perhaps to th^ .traveller than 
either ; they are as hospitable as if they were descended 
from the ancient Milesians, or King Brian Borrome himself. 
I have been frequently invited both to dinner and evening 
parties — though the company sits long at . table on those 
occasions,! saw no disposition to excess, — ^^every person was 
at liberty to drink as he pleased. The hour on such 
occasions is five o'clock, and the dinner is in a profusiou 
that is extraordinary. This is the more astonishing, as 
the men in general are very temperate eaters 5 many of 
them dined off one dish, and very few tasted the confec- 
tionary, which was io a very gre^t abundance™ Virtue and 
vice, as well as good and evil, are pretty equally balanced — 
drunkenness is the vice of Irishmen, as gluttony is of 
Englishmen — Which is the worst — an Englishman will 
say drunken aess of course ; but he is a party, and cannot 
be admitted a judge — I do not say that gluttony is the 
worst, but certainly it is the most degrading. 

'* The soul subsides and wickedly inclines^ 
To seem but mortal e*en in sound diviues.** 

The Wines on the table were, TenerifFe, Sherry, and 
Port — yet very little ^ of thepj was drank; punch is the 
national liquor. Wine is - taken without pleasure, as a 
matter of course, but the approach of the pi^nch is hailed 
with rapture, as it makes its appearance immediately after 
;|;he cloth is removed. It is pleasing to find, that the 
irritatign of party, I have seen so much of elsewhere, 
is hardly known in this town-— yet it is but a sliort-lived 
pleasure; for, filas ! of what avail is one grain of sense 
in a bushel of folly; -one pebble of beauty, on a strand of 
deformity ? — Like a fertile spot in the desertis of Arabia^ 
}t only serves to make the surrounding wilderness mov^ 
Jiiideous, 



279 

'The people cS Sirabane afe plain and unaffected in 
their manners^ and despise and ridicule affe'ettkion in 
Others. — It is, therefore, the worst place jn th# worli for 
a proud or a vain man to come to, as many groud and 
vain men have experienced. The repeal of the union 
(a question which so much agitates the public mind in 
Dublin) is neither talked of, nor wished for here; nor I 
believe in any other part of the north of Ireland. — The 
Presbyterians of Ulster are fond of England, fond of 
Englishmen^ fond of trade and of quietness ; beside this, 
there is no community of 'feeling in Ireland ; no con* 
tinuity of substance. — The Catholic is one. — The Protes- 
tant is one. — Dublin is one. — They must be amalgamated 
together, ekher by good government, or blood. I fear it is 
to be the latter. Routs are frequent in Strabane, and, as 
in London, the rooms are as full as they can hold. Folly 
flies with the wings of an eagle, while wisdom travels 
with the paces of a snail. Turnpike roads and mail 
coaches whirl the fashions of London, with their newest 
gloss, to the mo^t remote parts of these kingdoms ; and 
in a few years, if we wish to contemplate pastoral inno- 
cence, we must seek it in the wilds of America. There 
are some sweet romantic walks about this town. — I 
soon tire of the society of man, and wander for hours 
amidst rocks and solitaiy glens ; I climb mountains, I dive 
into valleys ; I overleap precipices, — I worship the great 
Author of nature, who, shadowed in darkness, presides 
over this gloomy and terrific sublime ; I was seated about 
two hours ago in a deep glen, by the side of a sparkling 
brook, and in sight of an immense cataract, which broke 
into white foam on the rocks below — ^The projection of 
rock, under which I sat, forms the covering, of what is 
called -Mavey Cann's Parlour. -^ Mavey in Insh signi-w 
fics old Witch. Witches were formerly welj known in 



280 

Engbnii} ai%4 are $tiU i^i gieat vogve k ^s County. 
With ttafe usual iu^^cciu'^^y of village uar^tiop, Marey ; 
Cann 19 $9id«to.hav dranlc tea here long befofe it wfi^ known . 
in Ireland.— I don't know wbat sort of tea 3he vmitty but I 
am sure she has excellent w«ter, — I 9tvoped down and 
quenched my thirst at the fountain in front oi bcir i|bode« 
About hi|lf a mile frorai Strabane^ on the of>posite stide of the 
river, is the beautifully-situated little town of liiFord. — It 
would be called a village in England > but by thc^ eourtesy of 
Ireland, every assemblage of houses is a town ; as almost 
every woman is a lady, and ^eiy man, when written to, aa 
Esquire^ This is an English colony, and some remains o^th^ 
accent may yet be found. Until a few y^rs ago,^ they retaui.i^ 
the nan^ of English, and frequent battles took place between 
them and the Scotch laddies, as the young men o£ Straba^e 
were called. About three mites l^syond Liffordis.a little biUji. 
called Stumpy's bray. A pedlar was murdered in a h^ufse . 
near this^ wi^i circumstances of the most atrocious cxuel^$ 
he struggled long against the-assassiii, and the nvarbs <^ faia 
fingers in blood were imprinted on the walls;—- his lega weaqe 
cut off, and he was crammed intQ a box for the purpose of 
concealment,— -he haunted the murderer every where. — < 
'^ Go where ypu will,'' said thfe apparition, ^^ I'll follow you.; 
wher^ you'll be to night. Til be to-morrow night!" — The 
conscience-struck villain, appalled by the Spectre of his own 
imagination, fled to America.— -The night after his arriva)^ 
he logked fearfully through his bed curtains, — the mutilated 
figure^ pale as the- tomb, in his blood-stained garments,. . 
stood on the hearth : ^^ Go where you will," said he *^ I'll 
follow you ; where you'll be to night, I'll be to-morrow 
night." The man, the next morning, confessed his c^me 
to a magistrate, was sent ovjer to Ireland, and executed.--^- 
I went into a, public houses nf^aur Jifffli4> V> ^,P ^^Wh 



■■■iii^a -m r^'^^m^^^^ « i**riw»^ai^i^^ 



Spirits find water.---Ati old woman was reading at tite kitch- * 
en fire ; slie cmlly took her spectacles oiF, and laid the Ibook 
d^wn ; ^rhaps it was not so much cifHity, fls the tacoethes 
loqtielHK,^''An old woman, who preferred readii^ to Iplking, 
would indeed be a phenomenon. — I threw my eyes over the 
book ; it was a London magazine, and, with a great deal of 
other silly matter, contained the following boll: — "After 
the battle of Fontenoy, Louis the fifteenth observed to an' 
Irish ofScer, ' Dillon's re^ment behaved well ; several were 
wounded.' — * Yes,' said the other, * but Clarke*s did better 
still > — f©r we were all killed/ Does the inventor of this 
bull know that he is himself guilty of one, or at least that 
he labours under a n^ost lamentable confusion of ideas ?— « 
From some pecuKarity m his native language, the 
low Irishman, in speaking English uses the word kil't, in 
a ridiculous manner. But the King of France, and the 
Irish officer did not conveiw in English, surely, and the 
mistake, which was barely possible in it, could' never have 
occurred in any other laoguage.-^That the Irish formeriy, 
move frequently made bulls than their neighbours, I think 
is jnrobable, as well from the universality of the observation, 
as for the following reasons : the English was long to tibe 
Irish a foreign language, acquired after they had arrived a^ 
yearsof manhood; — spoken withdifiiculty, and reluctantly,— 
they translated thavfore >*-they thought in one language^ 
and tbey expressed themselves in an other. — Every person- 
acquainted with' French, knows how ridiculous an EnglCsh- 
man's mode of speaking it generally is ; but the construction^ 
of the Irish differs mueh naore froth the English^ than the 
English does ftom the French. It is more poetical, more 
animated^ more glovring. It aboundsin interrogation, and^ 
hyperbole ; akiibst universally, (it is saiiiQ the subject or 
substantive ismentimiedi' Afs^ aiid< ^ qui^y of attribute 



282 

■ 

afterwards ; this latter is one of- the great beauties of the 
Irish/ as it is of the Latin and Greek languages^ but it is 
preposteiiDus ivh English, and is called iu derision of the 
Irish^ wtting the cart before the horse. Independent of 
language however, the peculiar disposition and tempera- 
ment of the Irish, may make them more liable, thad many 
other nations, to commit blunders.— They have great' vi- 
vacity, acute feelings, and warm fancies. They may, there- 
fore, besupposed to burstoutin tliose quick salHc? which over- 
leap the regular concordance of words, oftener than their more 
cold-blooded neighbours; but, having made these allow- 
ances, it is but justice to add, that there b much mis- 
chievous misrepresentation on this subject; and that well- 
educated Irishmen, at present, make bulls as seldom^ as the 
English. English is the language which they speak from 
infancy, and the warm tide of their boiling veins has been 
cooled by the mixture of English blood ; but when a parti- 
cular character has been affixed to a countr}', or a town, 
they hardly ever get rid of it ; thus, Edinburgh is still de- 
scribed as dirty, though it is actually one of the cleanest 
cities in Eurqpe : Irishmen of all classes still make blunders, 
because it is probable the lower class of them once did so. 
Authors serve up the repast which suits the public taste, 
and manufacture Irish bulls in their garrets, as vintners do 
port in their cellars, as unlike Irish modes of expression, as 
the latter is to the real wine of Oporto. I think I cannot use a 
stronger simile. For a dramatic writer there is some 
excuse ; his trade is fiction, and his purpose is amuse- 
ment. — ^' He lives to please, and therefore ^ must 
please to live/' The audience cpme to see the Irish- 
man they have been accustomed to, a being of the 
stage and. not of nature ;> and he must quarrel, 
make love^ make bulls, and swear by Ja8us;*<^But ft 



285 

a tourist there is no such apology ; he must he a man 
pf some fortune, and, therefore, does not write. from 
mere necessity. He professes to give a picture, not 
a caricature ; — he comes abroad to observe men and 
manners, and proposes to instruct, not to amuse;-— 
he may be deceived in his, judgment, but he is bound to 
tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the 
truth. I am sorry to remark, that the conduct of most 
Irish tourists has been very different from thisi I'hey 
follow the lead of those who preceded them; they 
find it easier to copy than inquire ; more lucrative to 
gratify prejudice, than to correct it ; they go about, 
therefore, twisting and perverting the most innocent 
expressions, and when they cannot find bulls, they 
make them. The effects of these misrepresentiations 
have been most mischievous; they have served to feed 
the arrogance of the English ; to increase their contempt 
of Irishmen ; to make them heedless of their clamours, 
their wrongs, and their claims ; because they have render- 
ed them blind to their talents, their virtues, and their 
strength. On the other hand, the y have wounded deeply, 
the feelings of a proud and high-spirited people, who can 
bear injury better than contempt. — This at all times would 
be a very gre^t evil, but it is particularly so at the present 
time. England wages war for her existence ; a great pro-, 
portion of her army and navy, must necessarily be Irish ; 
kind treatment will make them subjects ; ill usage, insult, 
and contempt, will make them mercenaries. — What the 
fsiteof all countries who depended on mercenaries has been, 
I need not say. England and Ireland have inflicted much 
misery on each other, and are probably nearly equally tQ 
blame. England was proud in strength, Ireland was 
pbstinate in independence ; she struggled till she was ex« 



2S4 

■ 

hausted^ and eten then she bit at the hand which held 
her to the ground. England inflicted misery^ hut she con- 
ferred kindness, and had Irelstnd consented to become 
English, she wouM have ^ven happineisf, — but Ireland 
forgot the kindness and only remembered the injury : — let 
v8 hojpe however, that some means may speedily be found, 
to make Ireland Happy in her own way, since she will not 
tti the way England would have had her; let us hope that 
eoncord may be attained, at this moment, when discord 
Duay be' ruin — of both the ruin; — for could Ireland succeed* 
in pulling down the edifice of English freedom, she may 
test assured, that, like Samson, she would herself be buried 
fi] the ruina. O! what a pity, that two nations so welT 
Hdapted to each other, — which were so cut and tallied, that 
the protuberances of the one seemed to fit the notches of 
the other, should thus, by unlucky circumstances, by" 
melancholy misconceptions, be repelled and alienated from 
eftch othei^; that Ireland should be Catholic, when England' 
wati Protestant ; — that Ireland should be royalist, when 
Bbgltmd was republican ; — that Ireland should tie revo- 
lutionary, when England was steadily loyal. * United by^ 
niKture like man and wife, to sweeten each others cup in 
life; that' they should have been always opposite, when they 
should'have agreed the most — that the virtues of one should 
became vices to the other, — that the blessings of England 
should be the curses of Iteland; and that now, when Eng- 
hmd struggles, (greatly and nobly struggles,) for her name 
aehd independence as a nation^ — that Irelknd' should hail' 
her woundi^, as her own balsam, — her' danger as her own 
etscape, her present misery, as her own future hapjmiess. 
©1 what a pity !i.— O'! what a pity! 



ta& 



CflAP- x^v. 



pINCE wrifing my last I have met with a slight accident* 
I must confine mys<*if for a few weeks to my chapiber, and 
fprego the pleasure I proposed to myself, in visiting the 
giant's cayseway.— I hope to enjoy it, however, on some, 
future occasion. As it is probable, therefore, I may again 
resume this subject, I shall only make, (in addition to those 
I have already made) a few general remarks on the inha- 
bitants of the North of Ireland*— — ^In other parts oS^ 
Ireland, it is to be lamented there are only two classes ia 
society^ and that the third, wliich is the best, is wanting — ^it 
is not wanting here. But there are not only three claase^i.. 
but it may likewise be said, three nations. The gentir| 
who ^e the English Irish. — ^The merchants, shopTfceepers^,, 
and manufocturers, who are the Scotch Irish,, and the 
servants and labourers, who are mostly .composed of the. 
native Irish.-^The second class is by far the most ration^,^ 
the most enlightened^ and the most industrious* body-r- 
equally removed from the extremes of Mrant and wealth|. 
it is in the middle stsite between poverty and riches, ia, 
which the Royal preacher vdshed to be placed.-^— It must 
he. admitted, however, that profusion oq the one haud^ an^ 
the exactions of landlords on the other, axe inclining it 
ratheir to the side' of poverty. In most other countries the 
gentry give the tone to society, — it is the middle clastic 
that gives it here— they are the link which unites the other 
t>vo — to a cextain degree, correcting their errors, and sof- 
tening their hatreds*-«-their gravity is the ballast, wluch 
Readies the bark pf If ish levity, and their placidity the oil 



286 

which tempers the rough edge of English arrogance — in 
consequence of this, the gentry of the North are milder 
in their manners, " and hear their faculties more meekly," 
than in the West and South of Ireland. — It is, therefore, 
among the Presbyterians of Ulster that the provincial cha- 
racter is to be sought ; and I am happy to be able to re- 
mark, that after attentive examination, I find their virtues 
far more numerous than their defects. In general they are 

great readers of the Bible. It is the first book that is put 

into their hands, and all their ideas take a tinge from it ; 
and often their phrases — they are^' accustomed to reflect, 
and to talk on the' doctrines it contains, and are, therefore, 
great reasoners oh theologic:J, as virell as other subjects. A 
simple country man has been known to stand up in the 
meeting house, antf address the preacher, on what he called 
false doctrine. — There are few great farmers — the country 
people are mostly weavers, and have a few acres of land only. 
This is the ancient, and almost patriarchal mocle of life, 
more favourable to happiness and morality — to national 
prosperity, though not perhaps to bloated national greatness, 
than any other — The character and appearance of the 
English people have been materially injured, by crowding 
such immense numbefs of men and women, into vast ma- 
nufactories in large towns. — ^The children of such people' 
are weak, ricketty, and generally as deformed in mind as 
in body. — I have remarked that ricketty people are almost 
always malevolent. Envy, perhaps, may have some share in 
this. The better class of country people live in great abun- 
dance — ^wine is not much used-— but they have great plenty 
of what they like better, and what is better adapted to the 
climate — which is Whiskey punch. — They are slovenly in' 
their habits, and an Englishman would often feel disgust 
at the state in which their houses are kept. They are in ge- 
neral large unhewn masses of stone^ — with little ornament" 



287 

without, and little cleanliness witliin.-— What is necessary 
is only attended to, utility alone is thought of, never beauty. 
-r-A northern farm-house, therefore, is an^accurate resem- 
blance of the Northern character,— It is a picture without a 
frame—- a bed without a curtain — a drawing-room without a 
carpet. It is astonishing how little idea Presbyterians have of 
pastoral beauty— the Catholic has a thousand times more 
fancy — but a Presbyterian minds only the main chance. 
If he builds a cottage, it is a prison in miniature.— If he 
Has a lawn, it is only grass, — the fence of his grounds is a 
stone wall, seldom a hedge ; — his garden is kale but never 
has flowers, — nature may give him the honey-suckle, but he 
never plants the rose. —The truth is, that a Presbyterian 
has a sluggish imagination : — it may be awakened by the 
gloomy or terrific, but seldom revels in the beautiful. 
The sweet delusions, therefore, with which fancy lofves to 
deck poor, weak, naked human nature, he is a stranger to. 
For this reason works of poetry are little relished by the 
Northerns. I know of only one instance of a poet of any 
eminence being bom here : Farquahar, the author of the 
Beaux Stratagem, and other esteemed dramatic works, and I 
should suppose from the name, he was of an ancient Irish 
family. — This latter remark may appear fanciful, but it is 
just. The ancient Irish retain with the names, much of the 
ancient expression of feature, and much of the ancient cha- 
racter. — When a descendant of one of them marries a 
ivoman of Scottish blood, we see, in the Children, the varied 
predominance o[ Scottish steadiness and frugality, or Irish 
thoughtlessness and impetuosity, as their features resemble 
eithet of the parents. — ^This is a most curious circum- 
stance, and a man of observation, who resided long enough 
here, to collect a sufficient number of facts, might throw 
much light on a very dark subject. — The natives of the 
place never attend to this, and weuld laugh at it if it was 
proposed to them. — Men never think strange what they are 



1 



2^ 

long aocii9tomed to, but they think strange, probably siUj^ 
the man who thinks it so.-r-The peasant^ perched on sonie 
Alpine cliff, which overlooks the precipice, does not admire 
the wisdom of the Englishman, who forsakes his verdant 
jmeads to climb those perilous rocks, and shiver in that 
landless snow. — ^The fisherman, whose hut is on the Btnmc^ 
sees no grandeur in the ocean, feels no terror £rom the 
tempest's roar. — In the Northern character there is mack 
fCobity, . much integrity and friendliness, but it has few of 
^e lighter virtues which grace many other nations ; — It ii 
^timable, therefore, rather than amiable ;— It is desirable 
more as a friend than acquaintance ; — it is a piece of mas^ 
plate, valued for its weight And solidity, but not for its feshioiL 
Man is here, more as he came from the hands of nature ; 
rough and headlong, boiling and bubblii^ from the rock^ he 
|s like one of his own mountain torrent^ which daAes 
fgainst imiQ«»(ie «t<^, rwie projections, «i><l has not yet 
formed to itself a passage and bed j^-^-he has not the mild 
and n)itigated tones, the gentle manners^ which now charajSr 
tense English society — he is more peremptory in contmdfie^ 
tion, more £Euniliar in his addreais, and heaitier in his ku^hr 
I do verily believe, paradoxial as it iMy appear, that Irish 
morals, (I mean Northern Irish,) are prefernble to Englidi^ 
but in. manners they are fajr sh^rt qt them.— But dus^ 
perliaps, is unavoidable > we cannot have the graces of pern 
feet civilization, with the maixly virtues of a less adyanced 
state. — We cannot at once smell the blossoms oi Sprisg^ 
and gather the fruit of Autumn.— -Nor, perhaps, is thatverf 
hif^ polish of civilizadon de^rable.—- -Time, which mellowa 
&e colpuxs of the pieture, de;stroys likewise the canvas ob 
\vhich they are laid.-r-Though Northerns possess so lUtla 
suavity of manners at home, I know no people who ac<|ttii« 
it sQoner abroad or, who sooner get rid ,of their provimiial iea»« 
tures and acc^nt.**-They have been very success&l m mak* 



289 

ing tkeir iv&7 in'EngkDd^ b; regular and' dombinedeffi)jrt» 
Tt^k conduct is orderly and proper i but as their original 
accent is Scotc^i^ and they soon acqinre an English one, ihey 
are seldom taken fc»r natives of Ireland, nor when the prejii-^ 
dice against that country is considered, is it Very wonderfiil 
that they should not be in a hurry to claim connexion with 
it.*-«Irelan€t is therefore in a great measure deprive t)f the 
advantage of their good character.-^Several most respecta* 
ble physicians in LcHidon, are natives of this part of the 
country, blit hardly any of them are known there to be such. 
Lord Caatlereagh is another str6ng instance of the facility 
HJth which they acquire the manners of Englishmen. 
When Lord Melville, and other Scotchmen, were high in 
oftc^, even at the time their conduct was most approved of, 
tlpey were viewed with some jealousy by the people ; but 
Lord Castler&agb, blended mor^ naturally with them ;*-- his 
peliilics mi^t not be approved of, but there was no feeling 
of natibnal distinctness either in himto them, or in them to 
hkfe Little aa I approve of some parts of the public conduct 
of this nibble Lord, lam happy to bear testunony to the many 
estimable qoaHttes he displays in private life. — I know^ 
from unquestionable authmtjr^ that on more than one occa^ 
sigm> dturing the late rebellion/ his hmumty saved those 
whmn justice would have condemned. — A poor lad, the 
son of a blind harper, wandered barefooted and bare* 
Icigge^ a few years ago from the town of Strabane : — he re- 
tiinied some time afterwards, a reverend Dean of the church, 
and is now a bishop.—- -Colonel T , Chief Secretary 

to &e Commander-in-Chief, is another fortunate Northern* . 
He went ii^ the army at a very early period of life, uti^ 
kndWB an4 unfriendedr-'-TI^ polish of his maniiers, the 
ek;g;aAce <if his address^ and the integrity of his conduct 
SQMi {NTOisiired him patrons*— The Duke of Y^drk, in a par- 
ti^ttto manner^ took m active share in ^moting his inte-' 



290 

rest. — He sent him, as military secretary, along' whh tS^ae" 
ral Whiteiock, to South America. After the unsttceesffftd 
termination of that expedition, he took him into his 0#n 
office at the Horse-Guards. — In the disclmrge of its duties, 

Ck»lonelT has given universal satisfaction ; he presedtt'a 

fair picture of the northern character, modified no doubc^ 
by early association with the army, and people of raidc. 
He is not deficient in that judicious assentation, withoat 
which it is impossible long to please any great man— ry<^ 
with none of the servility of which the Scotch have been 
accused. — The native Irish, frcmi their want of dns assenta- 
tion, seldom make their way well in life — not that they we 
incapable of flattery, but their habitual flightiness^ mak» 'ft 
liable to many intcrruptions.<^--The folly or passion of Mit 
hour, destroys the labour of years — like a good cow whiek 
gives plenty of milk, but has a careless heel. Long biefece 
the abolition of the slave-trade in the West Indies^ it wai 
put a stop to in the island of St. Helena, by the indefiBiti^ 
gable exertions of the governor, who is a native oi tke 
county of Cavan, in this province. He luid much ttfi^- 
representation, obloquy, and even danger tdenoountor; bat 
his philanthropy, made him regardless of them aU*«-*OD 
such conduct comments are unnecessary.--*To die viitnottf 
belongs a reward superior to the praises of men— «the appro* 
bation of their own hearts — yet I cannot forego the gratifi- 
cation of inscribing on those pages, the name of Colotel 
Robert Brooke. — Lord Moira, in one of his speechesin die 
House of Lords, said, that there was more inforlnatioa in 
the province of Ulster, than in any other country in the 
universe, of equal extent. This, I think, is exa^erated 
praise— they are (as far as my obsinmition ei£tends) a ra- 
tional and thinking, rather than a reading people^ dieo* 
natural good sense, however, enables them to taik-wiA 
(preat propriety ou most subjects- - of ;eonveftftliOQ« 



\ 



291 

tHief are workmen who do much, with few tools — they are 
ii^usicians whoring many changes on few bells. — I know of 
.but one periodical publication in the whole province 5 — a 
fuagazine printed in Belfast — a work replete with sound 
sense, and just observation, delivered in plain and perspi- 
cuous laDguage.-*-In these respects it is a striking contrast 
to the general run of Dublin confpositions. The authors 
of * which, from their eager solicitude to please, often fail to 
ido it — they substitute tinsel for gold, and shadow for sub- 
iMance-*-ttie matter is overwhelmed with its ornaments— 
the man l&smothered in his 4imour. — I have often> on read- 
•itig a page of prodigious fine writing, in a Dublin news- 
paper, exclaimed, with the Greeks of old, '^ what is all this 
jib Hercules !'*— If my advice had any weight with these 
gentlemen, I would recommend them, " more matter with 
Jess art."— The desire to be brilliant, and' to dazzle, is too 
fibvious, and is aln^ost universal. The judge on the bench, 
ajsd the bishop in the pulpit, arie equally guilty of it. They 
write and speak of a subject, but they think of themselves. 
Tliey resemble a handsome servant maid^ who appears busy 
IB putting the flowers in her mistress's head, but is all the 
time adjusting her own tucker in the mirror before her. It 
would be unpardonable in a sketch of this kind, not to say 
a few words of the ladies. — In general they are fair and well- 
looking — ^They are not unsuccessful copyists of English 
fashions, and have a good deal the appearance of English" 
women* If there is a shade of difrerenee, it is that their 
features are harsher, and their persons rather more mascu- 
Kne*— They are very fond of dancing,-- -in which they dis- 
play more vivacity and rapidity of movement than elegance 
or grace. This, perhaps, maybe no evil. Young women who 
are taught the steps of opera dancers, are often apt to learn 
their tricks. They are more acute and knowing than Eng- 
ish women.^-^Tbiey liave not (I think) by any means, so 




292 



much sctisibaity ; — ^their passions are not so eafrfly itillaiiicdL 
—They can play about a flame, therefore, which waaM 
singe and consume an English woman. — They have pro- 
bably more vanity, and they have certainly more pride.— lii 
an Irish country town, there are four or five dificrcnt de- 
grees in female rank, and each class looks down with sove- 
reign contempt on the one below it. — The consequence of 
this is, I fear, that Irish women are not so agreeable acquaint- 
ances as English women : — they have many virtues, b«lt 
pride is the rind that conceals them. — A man accustoiia^ 
to English manners, will seldom take the trouble to bre^ it 
—Yet so strange a thing i$ human-nature— so adiuiral^ 
are disadvantages balanced by corresponding advantage^ 
that I have doubts whether the negative qualities ot tJA 
very vice of pride, does not do as much good, as any posfr 
tive virtue ; — at least, if female chastity is the eisseflnf- 
rial virtae that people are disposed to think it. Irish firift 
gives chastity to the females, in a degree that hardly ^ 
country this day in Europe can boast of. Adultery -rtr^n In- 
trigue even, is unknown among females in the middle ^la^ 
—A married woman may be violent, may be a termagant,:^ 
An unmarried one, may be pert, may be ignofMit, may be 
flippant, — but they are, 

*' Chaste as the icicle, 

That bangs on Dian*s temple." 



Climate no doubt has some influence in this ; — ^i 
has some; but pride, pride is \he. buckram and whale- 
bone in the stays of Irish chastity, which enables it to wrik 
through life, as stately as a duchess at a coronation. Am I 
have already mentioned that the native Irish, in thfa pro* 
vince, are almost entirely servants ^nd labourers, it woiAl-be 
unfair to judge the general character, hymen in tbe^ «to»- 
tion, They appear to me to have naany of the good quali* 



29S 

"tie^ .and many of the bad onesj which have been attributed 
tp them. They are warm-hearted, friendly, cheerful, and 
affectionate, — but they are regarded with distrust: they 
are, therefore, cunning ; they are drunken, and in that con- 
dition, turbulent and quarrelsome. — But even these faults 
should not make Englishmen despise Irishmen, their virtues 
are their own, their vices have been forced upon them. 
Moreover, if there is much individual vice in Ireland, that 
U not in England, there is vice in England that is unknown 
in Ireland. I would put it to any rational and virtuous mai^ 
whether thf prevalence of the abominable crime, with the 
account of which we are so often shocked, does not counter- 
balance, in the .scale of relative morality, the advantages 
England possesses over Ireland, were they ten times greator 
llian they are. What is drunkenness, or insubordination, or 
turbulence, compared to vice, from which the eye of manhood 
turns in honpr and disgust ? Which has imparted a poiv 
, tion of the abomination of the continent, (I hope in Grod 
.not e3Ltei](sively imparted) to the English character; and 
which too often makes a London newspaper, in the notice it 
is obliged to take of it, resemble less a modem publics- 
,ti(m, than a fragment saved from tKe destruction of Gomor- 
rah. The employment of foreign servants, foreign trades- 
men, opera dancers and singers, has been often reprobated ; 
if it has had a tendency, (as I think it has had,) to cause 
this eontamination,— how far short is the reprobation it has 

ever met with, from what it deserves. ^I shall conclude 

this chapter with remarking, that the presbyterians of Ul- 
ster, will, I have no doubt, be found by every traveller who 
views them without prejudice, to be what I have described 
them, a sedate and orderly people. Whether they are so 
because they are presbyterians, or are presbyterians, because 
they are sedate^ and orderly, I wilLnot positively determine ; 



294 

but 1 should suspect the latter. Men at length settle into the 
religion the best suited to their temperaments^ as every tarn 
after forty is said to be his own best doctor. Modes_ of re- 
ligion are modified by disposition and climate^ and those 
which are adopted by one people, would be rejected, and 
with reason, by another. The cold»-and unadorned religion 
of Scotchmen, would little suit the warm and glowing 
imaginations of Italians or Greeks. — Religion is UDiform, 
and universal ; — the modes of it partial, and as varied as oar 
countenances and complexions. — Of no more importance, 
(could men be brought to think so,) than the gaonent of the 
preacher. The pure and benevolent hearty is the only 
ofiering worthy of the deity, and equally acceptable, I trust, 
whether it ascends from the Catholic chapel, or the Protes- 
tant cathedral, — the Turkish mosque, or the Pagan temjrie 
—the gorgeous dome of civilization, the clay-built altar d 
the savage, or the barbarous hut of the Esquimaux. 



I 



G. SiDNir, Printer, Northumberland-Street, Strand. 



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